Something Wicked
by Tattooed.Mommy.To.Be
Summary: Klaus wants Elena; after all, she's the key to his hybrids, to his army. He'll do whatever is necessary to have her. Even if it means taking away the man she loves most. Again. This time, however, she'll have to sacrifice so much more to save him. Eventual ElenaxDamon, mentions of ElenaxStefan. Sometime in Season 3 after Homecoming. Might move to M rating later.
1. Chapter 1

**Something Wicked**

 _ **A/N: I make no money off this story. The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me; rights belong to the CW, LJ Smith, Julie Plec, and any other original owners.**_  
 _ **Story line diverts sometime in season 3, around episode Homecoming, possible spoilers through then. This doesn't follow along with the story exactly, some details have been altered to create a better fit.**_  
 _ **I have no beta, and I wrote this on my phone, so please be forgiving about the minor errors. Please review and enjoy.**_

 _Summary: Klaus wants Elena; after all, she's the key to his Hybrids, to his army. He'll do whatever is necessary to have her. Even if it means taking away the man she loves most. Again. This time, however, she'll have to sacrifice so much more to save him. Eventual ElenaxDamon, mentions of ElenaxStefan._

 **Chapter One: What We've Done**

 _"I know there's gotta be some peace in me, but I can't find it."_ (Three Days Grace)

The very first night that Damon realizes something is off, he's two bottles of bourbon into a bender. Ric has just gone home, more than half-lit himself. The house is quiet, his brooding brother is off hunting bunny wabbits or Bambie, and Elena is safe in her bed with sugar plums and hero hair dancing in her head. He takes a long pull from the bottle in his hand when his stomache rolls uncomfortably. He gulps down the liquid but keeps swallowing against the nausea rising in his throat. He barely reaches porcelain in a blur before he's spilling up his guts into the water below.  
When he's certain he's finished, he falls back against the wall, wiping his mouth with the back of his trembling hand. "That was... unpleasant," he mutters to no one. He's breathing deeply, trying desperately not to think about the last time he puked up the entire contents of his stomache. His gaze drops to the juncture of his elbow in spite of himself. The skin on the inside of his arm is clean and unblemished, with no trace of that nasty werewolf bite anywhere. Still, he rethinks the past few days in his foggy mind.  
There's not much outside of the regularly-scheduled insanity of their lives to recall, if he's being honest. There's a failed attempt at killing the Evil, All-powerful Original Hybrid; there's Stefan's torturously slow return to his former brooding and caring self; there's Elena and her ever unrequited love for Damon. But there are no werewolf bites at all. This brings him momentary ease before he actually considers what other logical reason there could be for the sour blood and wasted bourbon in the toilet.  
The sound of the front door opening and closing brings Damon out of his reverie, and he moves to flush the toilet, wash his hands in the futile hope they'll stop their insensate shaking, and brush his teeth with entirely more force than necessary. By the time he's done, he still feels... off-kilter and decides maybe he needs a blood bag before he crashes for the night. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he finds Stefan waiting for him. He comes up short, muttering a tired, "What, Stefan?"  
His brother looks more sorrowful than he's been in months. "I owe you an apology."  
One of Damon's brows shoots toward his hairline, but he doesn't speak.  
"I'm sorry, Damon. If I'd've let you stake Klaus, then-"  
"Then what, exactly? All of our problems would've been over! Elena would be completely safe!"  
"And you wouldn't be," Stefan counters softly.  
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"  
"Klaus. He commanded his hybrids to kill you if anything happened to him."  
"Oh, you've got to be joking," Though Damon still feels nauseous and slightly inept, he's about two seconds from punching his rage into Stefan's furrowed brows. "You need to stop saving me."  
"You're my brother, Damon."  
He hums in acquiescence and then sighs, "Don't remind me," as he turns to head down the basement stairs.  
"Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't give a shit."  
Damon rounds on Stefan again, his hand resting in the cellar door, "Pot, kettle. I'm too hungry for this conversation, so if you'll excuse me-"  
"You ate before I left an hour ago," Stefan returns, suddenly suspicious.  
"I didn't realize I was on an eating schedule _or_ that needed your permission," he snaps before wrenching open the cellar door. "Go scribble in your diary about your infuriating brother or your doting girlfriend. We can rehash your idiotic inability to repeatedly throw yourself between me and a proverbial stake tomorrow."  
"Goodnight, Damon," Stefan says with a roll of his eyes as he heads to his room, but he isn't entirely convinced Damon isn't hiding something from him.  
When Damon finally collapses in his bed, his head is pounding, and his mind is reeling, but his nausea is gone. He decides the blood must've corrected the problem. That just leaves his infuriating brother and the girl who will always love Stefan best.

...

The following morning, or, hell, let's be honest; the following afternoon, Damon resolves to tell Elena his brother's dirty little secret as to why he's betrayed them. Though he knows it's something she deserves to be told, it isn't a conversation he's particularly looking forward to. He's absolutely certain that as soon as the words leave his lips, Elena will go bolting directly back into Stefan's waiting arms. He stalls as long as he reasonably can, justifying his selfish hesitation with the fact that he should feed and down the largest glass of bourbon _ever_ before he drags himself to see Elena. It doesn't take nearly long enough.  
Before he can change his mind, he finds himself on his favorite doppelganger's doorstep, his fist poised to knock when the door is flung open from the inside. And there she is. Stunningly breathtaking in just her jeans, a Henley and a pair of black Chuck Taylors. He allows himself one single moment to enjoy her before he looks away. "Elena," he greets, watching a car pass by with entirely too much feigned interest.  
"Damon. I was just leaving to find you."  
"Oh, were you?" He smirks. "What a coincidence."  
"Is everything okay?"  
"Sure, you could say that," he meets her eyes again. "I know why Stefan betrayed us at the dance."  
She clearly isn't expecting this, "Oh, really?"  
"He... had a good reason. Well," he amends, "a good reason, according to him. Klaus aparently appointed his hybrids to off me if anything happened to him. So, my idiot brother was just saving my ass. Again. At the cost of absolutely everyone else."  
At his tone of disgust, Elena shakes her head, "Well, then I'm glad he did it."  
"And I'm not. Klaus and all our problems would be gone," he hisses.  
"And so would you," she breathes.  
He stares at her for a long moment, loving the impossibleness of this girl. Her astounding, if platonic, love for him constantly bewilders him. "Yep," he agrees after a long, pregnant silence, popping the 'p' on the end, "so would I." He looks conflicted for a moment before he adds, "Before I say this to you, there's just one thing I want to do. Something I have to do."  
Before Elena can ask or argue, she's pulled into Damon's arms, gently and tenderly as he brings his lips tentatively to hers. Their kiss is entirely too short for both of their tastes, but it's light and expressive and beautiful. It conveys a sweet, affectionate, and gentle side of him that she only ever seems privy to. She half-expects an untamed eroticism and desire, but he isn't like that with her in this moment. He treats her with a reverence and fragility that leaves her blushing more than any unrestrained passion ever could. When he pulls away slowly, his taste is left across her tongue and in her soul, and it's a long time before either of them can speak.  
"I know I shouldn't have done that. And to ease my guilt, or maybe because I'm a hopeless masochistic, I'm going to tell you that Stefan needs you right now. He's so close to the edge. Whether you can pull him back or let him fall is for you to decide, but I'm telling you, he isn't as far gone as I've been trying to convince myself he is."  
She considers him for several more deep breathes before she says softly, "I've told you before, his love of you is stronger than his love for me."  
Damon laughs and shakes his head, "Oh, I doubt that."  
"It's true. And it's obvious. You refuse to believe that anyone can see the good in you. You're wrong, you know."  
He laughs again, but this time it's humorless and stiff. "I don't do good, Elena. That's reserved for you and my insufferable younger brother."  
"You can keep telling yourself that, but why would you be here, right now, telling me any of this, if you weren't worried about Stefan in the slightest?"  
"Well," he concedes, "I can't have him running around all strung out and munching on the townsfolk, now can I?"  
"Mm-hmm," she hums sarcasticly. "Like I've never heard that before. Whatever you say, Damon. Now that we have that all cleared up, shall we go visit the 'good brother'?"  
Damon smirks again. "After you, m'lady," he says as she grabs a coat and steps over the threshold.

...

Stefan's pen flys across the paper in his attempt to expel his conflicted thoughts. He's angry and guilty and frustrated and afraid. He wonders how long it'll be before Klaus comes back for Elena. He worries Damon is hiding something from him. He's ashamed of how he treated Elena. Mostly, he's frustrated because he has absolutely no solution to any of this beside the thousands of words pouring onto the paper. He's several pages in when he hears the front door slam.  
He rises to his feet, stretching, catching his brother's voice as he descends the stairs at a human pace. The moment his eyes fall on Elena, he comes up short.  
She murmurs his name, and it's as though the sun has peeked through from cloud cover; as though his world lights and warms at simply the sound of her voice lilting over the syllables of his name. Her smile is slight and tentative, and his heart aches for the way she used to look at him; the way she used to trust him implicitly. He wonders if she still does at all. "How are you?" She says when it becomes obvious he isn't going to speak just yet.  
He nods, curtly, unable to force his lips upward. "Fine," he lies, but it's something.  
"Damon said," she glances in Damon's direction, only to find he's moved to pour himself a healthy helping of bourbon. She can't help but notice the slight stumble in his step. She frowns slightly, distracted as she turns back to Stefan. "That you," she falters then, unsure of how to finish that sentence.  
Stefan raises his eyes brows slightly, glancing at his brother's back. Elena is here because Damon talked her into it. He swallows thickly. He knows what this would've done to his brother, knows the pain he must've endured while forcing Elena back into Stefan's arms. He doesn't want to ruin this gesture by speaking anything aloud to or about Damon, as he knows his brother's snark and sarcasm will remove any gratitude Stefan could try to give him. So, he nods in Damon's direction and offers Elena his arm. "Take a walk with me?"  
She hesitates only a moment, but it speaks volumes to Stefan. Whether his own actions have forced her towards Damon or whether she no longer trusts him, he isn't sure. As they make their exit through the front door, he glances back and catches his brother's eyes, something silent but monumental passing between them. Then the emotion fades from Damon's eyes as he salutes the pair with his newly full tumbler. Stefan frowns but refocuses on Elena. "I owe you an apology," he begins, remembering his talk with Damon last night. "Several, if we're being honest."  
She watches him, face and eyes gaurded. "I don't blame you, Stefan." She says after a long quiteness. "I've always blamed Klaus." She sighs heavily. "But thank you, for apologizing to me. I know this must be difficult for you. All you sacrificed for Damon."  
He clears his throat before breathing out, "You mean I sacrificed you."  
Elena shakes her head, but doesn't deny his words when she finally speaks again, "Your life. Your freedom."  
"You," he repeats. Then, slowly, "Do you love him?"  
"I don't want to talk about Damon right now," she whispers.  
"Will you stay with me tonight?" He asks quietly, subdued. He isn't diluted; he knows exactly what her truthful answer would've been. "Just one more night, Elena, please. I need it."  
 _"I came to ask for your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it. But I need it."_  
Elena, dispite her effort, gazes back toward the front door they've just walked away from, toward where Damon surely stands still. "Okay," she murmurs, her breath releasing into the frigid air in a cloud. And when she finally drags her eyes back to him, his smile is equally as sad as her own.

...

Damon watches Elena and his brother leave arm-in-arm. Guilt is thick in Stefan's gaze when Damon meets his eyes. He toasts them; he's never deserved Elena. But Stefan? Stefan needs her most now. After all he sacrificed for Damon, the least Damon can do is repay the favor. However, as he already knows well, there isn't enough alcohol in this entire town the dull the agony he feels at letting go of the only woman he's truly, truly ever loved. Again. Though, he concedes, she was never really his to give away in the first place. He empties and refills his glass, glancing into the fire burning brightly in the hearth, before he moves in the direction of his room. His right foot hits the first step as he decides one more glass isn't going to be enough. He hooks two fingers around the decanter and retreats to the silence of his room. He convinces himself the way his hands shake and his vision tilts is related directly to the agony in his chest, right where his heart used to beat. He vows to make travel plans at the bottom of this bottle. He vows lots of things, if he's honest. None of it makes a damned difference in the end.

...

 _It's dark, wherever she is. The colors are muted in the all consuming shadows. She recognizes this room; she's spent enough time in it. The living room of the Salvatore boarding house is now nearly as familiar to her as the one in her own, childhood home. There's no fire glowing, even softly, in the hearth to her left, which is strange as Damon usually keeps it stoked well into the night during the winter months. The Boarding house has stood here for over a century, and it's sprawling halls and vacant rooms do little to hold in the heat. It's quiet, which isn't all so uncommon in the middle of the night, which she is certain it must be. She rises from the couch on cold, unsteady feet, and the soft, thin blanket spills onto the floor beside her._  
 _Padding barefoot to the bottom of the west staircase, which leads to her boyfriend's room, she murmurs, "Stefan," up into the cold, silent darkness. Though there's no answer, she swears she hears slight movement behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she whisperes, "Damon?" Though she's quiet, she knows he would hear her, wherever she was in the house. The sound comes again, slightly louder this time, a stilted shuffle against old wooden floorboards and something else too quiet to discern. She's certain it's coming from Damon's wing now. Quiet as a mouse, she wisps across the chilly floor and glides as quickly up the stairs as she dares._  
 _She comes to a standstill only feet from Damon's bedroom door. She breathes his name in the darkness broken only by one pale sliver of moonlight further down the long hall. This time, the sound comes again, louder, though still just above a murmur. She thinks maybe it's her name, but perhaps it is distorted in her ears by the deafening pounding of her heart. She reminds herself to gulp in several deep lung-fulls of air before gently pushing open the heavy wooden door which separates her from whatever awaits within. Upon first glance, even in the nearly complete darkness, she can see nothing of immediate concern. The curtains over the large windows are drawn taunt, letting no pale light from the moon escape within. She notes, with some irritation, that she's trembling now._  
 _Because the house was built before her grandparents were born, and inhabited by mainly vampires, it is somewhat lacking in wall-adorned light switches. So, fumbling blinding through the dark room, she searches for the end table she knows houses a dim bedside lamp. As soon as the stick turns in her fingers and weak light floods all around her, she glances around before breathing a quiet sigh of relief. Damon's room is as she's always remembered it; spotless and minimally decorated, with the giant, elegant four poster bed juxtaposed in the right corner. The sheets and comforter, however, which are typically replaced with meticulous precision, are hastily throw askew and rumpled with recent use. Panic seizes her again, squeezing her throat and shooting ice down her spine._  
 _She jumps, startled, burning fear plummeting into her stomache, and turns toward the bathroom, a different, though more alarming noise sounding from within. Scraping, something hard grating against the stone floor of Damon's flawlessly elegant shower, she imagines. She wants to speak his name again, but the fear is clenching her vocal cords fiercely. She wastes no more time, hurries to the bathroom entryway which is just barely illuminated by the bedside lamp._  
 _"No," she hears then, a quiet moan thrown in her direction. It's Damon, she knows, but the tremble in his deep voice doubles her panic._  
 _"Damon?" She exclaims, a hundred different, though equally horrifying, scenarios tumbling over her misfiring synapses. She moves toward the sound of his voice, which comes again._  
 _"Elena," is the breathy sigh. Though she's heard her own name voiced by a thousand different people, a thousand different times, Damon is only person she's ever met who can convey nearly anything he wishes depending on his tone and conviction. This time, it's reminiscent of a night she wishes she could forget, but absolutely never will. It speaks of a deathbed confession, a feverish mind, and pain. So much pain._  
 _She can see his form, hunched against the tile floor not ten feet from her. She can't see very well into the depths of this room, but she's certain now, something is very wrong. "Damon," she murmurs gently, moving slowly but surely toward him, "what's wrong? Are you..." she hesitates, searching for the least terrifying way to end that sentence._  
 _"You can't... You're not..." he's gasping, not making any real sense to her terrified, straining ears. But it's right then, exactly twelve steps into his luxurious bathroom, that the smell hits her. She's far too familiar with it now to mistake it, metallic and sharp._ Blood. _"You have to... Elena..." his moan breaks off into a pause, where she considers the pros and cons of wasting valuable seconds searching for the lightswitch, then, "Run!"_  
 _Even though she wants to run, so very badly, she can't, absolutely cannot, leave him without first knowing what's happened to him. "Damon? What's wrong with you?" She asks gently, her voice breaking on his name._  
 _She finds the damn light, bathing everything in sharp, white light that momentarily burns her retinas. It draws an agonized yelp from Damon, who she runs to, careful to avoid the frighteningly large pool of deep red he's lying in the center of. "No, no, no," he's chanting so quietly she wouldn't have heard if she wasn't right beside him. His eyelids and teeth are clenched. Her shaking fingers roam over him, as she searchs, frantically, for the source of all the blood and pain. She finds it, though it isn't where she expects it to be._  
 _Along the long, white column of his throat, is a deep, knarly tear, oozing dark, nearly black blood. "Damon," she gasps, "who did that to you?! What happened?!"_  
 _"K-Klaus. Trap."_  
 _Her stomach plummets. Klaus?! "No, but that means..." she moves her hands to his face now, begging him to open his eyes, to tell her it isn't true. That he isn't dying. , finally, after crystalline blue eyes flicker open and she can clearly see the fear burning brightly in them, that she realizes what he'd been trying to tell her before. "He's here?" She breathes, suddenly paralyzed by terror._  
 _"He's right behind you, love."_  
 _She can't breathe, can't move, can't scream. Klaus, his tall, sinewy form stalking casually forward until he stands beside them, reaches down and effortlessly picks Damon up, one handed, by his already ruined throat. "I told you you'd make the perfect bait for her, didn't I?" He asks Damon laughingly in that easy accent of his. "But now, I'm afraid," he pauses and frowns with just the right amount of faux sadness before the smirk sneaks back onto his lips and he finishes, "You're of no further use to me, Damon."_  
 _As Klaus's fangs sink deeply back into the torn and bleeding flesh at Damon's neck, Elena begins to sob in earnest, Damon's name and_ please, no _falling repeatedly from her lips like prayers. Damon, himself, cries out softly as the last remnants of his unnatural existence slip away. "Run... Elena, run," the last word ends on a sigh, and all the fight leaves his body, reminding her of a marionette whose strings are severed all at once._  
 _Klaus drops him unceremoniously to the cold, stone tile below, wiping at the blood on his chin delicately with one of Damon's expensive hand towels, his expression suddenly bored. She hardly notices. All Elena can see is that those beautiful, half-lidded, blue eyes have gone dim, lifeless. She knows he's gone even before the horrible, grey veins slither across his skin. The scream that tears from her throat builds from her toes and rattles her body to its core, "DAMON!"_

"DAMON!"  
The vampire chokes on his mouthful of bourbon. Despite being separated by a floor and half the house, Elena's scream of his name reaches him in all its haunted glory. His first, knee-jerk reaction, is that she's in danger. And so, when he finds himself kicking down Stefan's door just a blurred second later, he's puzzled to find she's thrashing under his brother's bedcovers. Stefan, himself, is sitting up, ramrod straight, beside her in bed, shaking her gently and murmuring her name over and over, all while gazing in Damon's direction. Damon, upon realizing there is aparently no immediate danger, is fascinated by the lack of jealousy or anger in his brother's intent gaze. Stefan seems only confused and worried.  
When shaking her resolves nothing, Damon stalks to the opposite side of the bed as the younger Salvatore, the bed dipping slightly next to Elena as he perches on the edge, and tries himself to wake her. "Elena," he says firmly, strongly, louder than Stefan had previously. "Elena, wake up. You're having a nightmare- wake _up_." When she hollers his name again, his hands surge out to her, griping tightly on her arm. " _Elena_ ," spoken in a way that only he seems capable; firm, almost-but-not-quite angry, but still deeply concerned.  
This snaps her awake. She jumps straight up in the smaller bed, covered in cold sweat, eyes wild and afraid. "Damon?" Her gasp of his name is the only warning he receives before she's launching herself against him, clinging to him as if he was a raft upon treacherous waters.  
His eyes meet Stefan's over her shoulder. All raised eyebrows and frown lines. Each brother more confused than the other. "Elena?" Damon questions, as he reaches gently to try to remove her vice-gripped hands from himself. In some dark back corner of his mind, he notes how, in nearly any other situation, he would have wholeheartedly welcomed her embracing him as though she might never let go. Now, however, she's absolutely scaring him shitless.  
His efforts, if anything, only goad Elena into clinging to him tighter. "You're alive," she breathes at last.  
At this, Stefan's brow furrows even further, an expression Damon would have found amusing if he didn't feel a nearly identical one on his own face. "Yes," he replies lightly, "Well, mostly," he amends. "Why wouldn't I be?"  
"Klaus, he- he... murdered you!"  
Damon takes a breath he hadn't needed in over a century, relaxing minutely, before saying, "I wouldn't want to have afternoon tea with the guy, Elena, but he hasn't killed me yet. Relax, okay? I'm fine." He grabs her left hand and moves it over his unbeating heart. "See?" He asks, smirking, "right where it should be. No holes."  
She shakes her head, groaning on a sigh, "That's not how." Moving her hands to his throat, she tries desperately to calm her tears. "He bit you and drained you."  
Damon looks to Stefan then, for a solution, feeling more than a little uncomfortable with the way she is stroking the highly sensitive skin at the base of his neck. He swallows thickly, trying desperately not to let the arousal he feels show in his expression.  
Stefan takes the cue, moving to embrace Elena from behind. "Let's all go downstairs. I'll make coffee. You can see for yourself that Damon's alright in the better lighting," if he feels at all threatened or jealous by all of this, he manages not to let any of it show on his face or sound in his steady voice.  
His hands on Elena's waist seem to bring her to more completely. She blinks twice, nods, and leans back from Damon, her hands falling into her lap. "Of course," she says quietly, "I don't think I'll be sleeping again so soon after that anyway. It just felt so... real."  
They move Elena down to the kitchen in silence, and Stefan flicks on the coffee maker. Elena is highly embarrassed by the time her bare feet grace the cold kitchen tiles. Damon is, obviously, his usual smirking, sarcastic self. Any trace of the agonized, terrified Damon of her dream is nowhere to be found on his beautiful face. "I'm sorry," she says, for the fifth time in as many minutes.  
"It's alright," Stefan repeats, a monologue they have been reciting repeatedly since she was fully awake.  
"Tell us the details," Damon adds suddenly, already weary of the repetition and brooding from the other two.  
Elena takes a deep breath and tries to, as quickly and concisely as possible, recall every detail. By the end, Damon looks even more relieved than before. (He's decided that dying, again, isn't high on his to-do list at the moment.)  
"It sounds like a nightmare, Elena. Little else."  
She frowns, but nods slightly at his tone. "You think I'm being ridiculous." It isn't a question.  
Damon's smirk relaxes slightly, "No. I just think it wasn't something we should be panicking over, that's all." He leans his head to the left, letting the overhead lights shine better on his pale flesh. "There's nothing there, not a scratch. If I'd been bitten by the almighty Hybrid, you'd know it. Hell, I'd definitely _feel_ it, and I'm telling you, I'm fine."  
Stefan nods now, too, though there's something off in his eyes that Damon can't quite pin down. It's something he remembers seeing there, on occasion, in his brother's eyes. Elena catches it, too, but the difference is, she does recognize it. It's a reminder of the unbreakable bond the Salvatore brothers share, that they, somehow, loath and love each other in equal messure. She knows what glints for a moment, razor sharp, in Stefan's green eyes, because it's the same feeling she has in her chest at the moment. They're worried, about Damon. For neither one will admit aloud, just exactly how much the dark-haired vampire means to them both.

...

Stefan ditches school. Damon knows this because by 10 am, it's all hair gel and brooding in the library of the Boarding House. Damon doesn't bother to read the title of the book his brother is flipping through with little regard to its age or fragility from where he leans casually against the door frame. "Stef," he begins, still debating whether he should be irritated or flattered by his younger brother's obvious concern. "Will you let it go? Even Elena's trudged off to school without a care in the world," That's a lie, of course, but Damon's trying to make a point. "She had a nightmare. Can you blame her? She's barely 18, and has lost more people she loves in the last 6 months than most people do in a lifetime. She's been kidnapped, sacrificed, sold to the highest evil bidder," he ticks off his fingers one by one, "of course there's going to be some residual trama."  
Stefan looks up at some point during Damon's rant, his brow furrowing even further. "True," he concedes, "but her dream wasn't about any of that. It was about you."  
Damon's eyes widen slightly. "Did you forget about that time you sacrificed yourself to save me from a werewolf bite? A nightmare of me dying from the exact same thing is such a huge stretch of her imagination?"  
"No." Stefan murmurs, returning to the book, "but you can't deny you look like shit today."  
Damon shoves off the wall, and stalks closer to the other vampire. "Thanks for the ego boost, baby bro, but in case you were wondering, by the time Elena was screaming my name at 4 am, I hadn't exactly been to sleep yet."  
His brother narrows his eyes, the book in front of him forgotten once again, "That isn't an unusual occurance for you, Damon. But you're pale."  
"Uhm, vampire," Damon interrupts, his eyes rolling to the ceiling.  
Stefan closes the book with a snap, moving to stand just in front of Damon. He shoves a hand against his elder brother's chest. Though he had an inkling of what would happen, the result sends chills down his spine. Damon stumbles backwards, his arm shooting out to the wall to steady him. "Tell me the truth, brother," Stefan mutters, "Still going to deny it?"  
Damon swallows, his mind churning. "I'm fine." He insists. "Just- no breakfast yet."  
"Save it, Damon. How are you feeling? Has anything happened in past few days, out of the ordinary?"  
Damon squints, flexing the muscles in his arms, doing his best to cover up the shock in his eyes when he notes, with some detachment, that they're sore. They're actually sore. He can't remember the last time they've felt this way. Maybe his last run-in with some teeth of the werewolf variety. Suddenly, he's coated in a fine sheen of cold sweat. "I haven't even been near a werewolf," he argues. "The last full moon was over two weeks ago."  
"Tell me what's going on, Damon," for all his pushing and bravado, Stefan actually looks afraid now.  
"I..." Damon clears his throat. He feels... off balance, unsteady on his feet. Which is highly improbable given his unnaturally quick healing time and his diet. "I just need some blood." He turns to head for the fridge in the cellar. "Just- don't get your panties in a twist yet, Stefan. I'm sure it's nothing."  
Stefan shakes his head as Damon disappears in search of a bag of AB negative or two, and sighs, "It's never nothing."

...

That night, Stefan lies awake in the bed he shares with Elena. After some tea and a lot of coaxing, he manages to convince her to sleep. He does little to convince himself. It isn't long before the nightmares begin again. Elena is twisting around under the comforter, but this far she's quiet. Needing all the information he can get, Stefan waits as long as he dares before he moves to wake her. A quiet moan that falls from her lips nearly unglues his resolve.

...

Damon wakes up in his own bed to a very strange sensation. His mind feels hazy, it reminds him of the way he would feel after Katherine had used compulsion on him to affect his future actions way back when he was still human. He needed to do- something. Though if he thinks too hard about what, exactly, he needs to do, the fog over his mind thickens. His stomach is churning. He climbs heavily to his feet, heading to his en-suite bathroom before he really even understands why he does it. At the same moment he registers Elena yelling his name, he's bent over the toilet heavung up every last pint of blood he's ingested all day. The heaves continue a few times after there's nothing left to come up, leaving him feeling cold and shaky.  
He hears Stefan crash into his room as he wipes the putrid blood off his chin. "Damon," it sounds both like a warning and a plea.  
"I'm fine, Stef. Peachy." But it sounds weak even to his own ears.  
Stefan comes to a halt at the bathroom enertway, his green eyes moving quickly over Damon, to the bloody toilet, and then over the rest of the room. When they return to Damon, they rove over his entire form, searching for any source of injury. He finds none. "I heard- what happened?"  
Damon shakes his head, his resolve depleted because even he can't deny that the second night this week he's thrown up without a serious cause is strange and concerning. He can't even muster the strength to force a smirk to his lips. He falls back against the cool tile of the wall. He's unsettled by how good it feels against his suddenly too-warm skin.  
Stefan takes several hesitant steps toward him before he lifts a hand to Damon's forehead. The dejà vu he feels is reminiscent of the late 1850s when they were young and human, and Stefan worried after his older brother even then.  
Stefan sighs, "You don't feel feverish."  
Damon shrugs, "Bad batch?"  
"Maybe," his younger brother agrees distractedly. Though they both know that's highly unlikely what with the amount of testing bagged blood goes through before they can pilfer it from the blood bank.  
"I just need a late-night snack and some sleep."  
"Sure. Of course. I'll bring it up to you."  
"I'm not an invaild, Stefan," he snaps.  
Stefan rolls his eyes, "No, you're just a vampire who threw up for the first time in a century."  
Damon doesn't mention the other night or the days following Tyler's poisoned nip on his arm. He threw up then, too. But he doesn't remember throwing his arm into the business end of any dog's mouth recently, so he stays quiet and allows Stefan to bring him a mug of warmed blood. He rises gingerly to his feet and walks slowly back into his bedroom.  
He nods his thanks from where he sits on his bed when his brother returns. Taking a long gulp, he asks, "How's Elena?" as the black veins under his eyes slither back under the surface of his skin.  
"She's fine," hesitates. "Taking a shower," hesitates again, "Can't you hear the water running?"  
Damon blinks, frowns. "No."  
Stefan sits beside him at that. "I think I'm going to call Bonnie."  
"At 3:30 in the morning? This is nothing that can't wait until the sun comes up, at least," Damon agrues, failing miserably at his attempts to ignore the unease he feels.  
His brother looks unconvinced. "Come downstairs, at least?"  
"Sure. I could use another," he tilts the mug side to side between two fingers and his thumb. Damon leads the way and pretends he doesn't notice the frantic typing of Stefan's fingers across the keyboard on his cell phone behind him.

...  
Three days pass in relative normalcy, or at the very least, as normal as their lives ever are. Damon seems back to old self, with no trace whatsoever of the pale, sweaty, ill vampire Stefan had found those nights ago in the bathroom. His smirk is ever-present these days, though the glass of bourbon is ever-full in his hand. Elena, however, isn't even slightly convinced by Stefan's aparently nonchalance. He's still worried. She knows this for sure because she's caught him, more than once, glancing in Damon's direction when he thinks neither of them will notice. Her nightmares have continued. Each night is different but equally terrifying. Bonnie, while worried, has had little to offer them in the way of advice or solutions. All she says is that they should call her if anything at all changes.

The next time something happens, it's the middle of the night again. Elena wakes with a scream she can't help, and she looks frantically around the room to note that Stefan isn't there. Which only means one thing. She rips the blankets off herself and stumbles as fast as she can down the stairs, through the living room and den, and then up the grand staircase towards Damon's room. When she's half-way up, she begins to hear quiet voices and noises of pain.  
"-I'd be dead by now," she hears Damon growl. "No, Stefan, don't _touch_ me!"  
"Damon," Stefan's voice is even and measured. "I'm trying to help."  
"It- hurts- when you touch me."  
"What?" This time his voice is less even, more afraid.  
"I-I can't explain it. It, I don't know, burns."  
"When I touch you?"  
"Yes. Look-"  
She can only imagine what Damon is wanting him to look at, but it's only a moment before she clears the doorway and sees for herself. Five angry red marks grace the skin of Damon's forearm, exactly where Elena can imagine Stefan's fingers had been. She gasps, and Damon looks up as though he hadn't noticed she was there, which, she realizes with a strange sinking feeling, maybe he actually didn't. "What is that?" She asks quietly, though she already knows what, just not why.  
Stefan's eyes are wide as they meet hers. "I've never seen this before," he sounds slightly awed. "Come here," he beckons her gently. She moves to him on unsteady legs. "Touch him," he murmurs gently, with a tone not unlike a scientist in charge of an important experiment.  
She swallows, looking into Damon's eyes for permission before doing as she's told. He nods once. She holds her breath as she reaches out, trembling, to grab his arm, closer to his wrist than Stefan had. They don't have to wait long before a sizzling sound takes to the air and Damon involuntarily cries out. She releases him, horrified. "I'm sorry!" She whispers.  
Damon winces, staring at his arm. "Is this an episode of _The Twilight Zone_? What the hell is wrong with me?" Though his tone is incredulous and rhetorical, Elena thinks she can hear fear behind it.  
Stefan moves Elena gently to the side so he can stand completely in front of his brother. "I'm sorry," he murmurs before touching Damon all over, his fingers dancing over skin and clothing quickly, trying to figure out the boundaries of whatever is happening.  
Damon clenches his teeth, but allows it. However, when Stefan's hand briefly rests against his clothed chest right above his heart, Damon shouts and blurs backward, slamming himself into the bedroom wall. He's gasping, choking almost, as he slids to the floor. "I can't-" he gasps, "Can't breathe."  
All Elena can do is stare, frozen. Stefan is kneeling in front of him, but his hands are lingering in the air between them. He's afraid to touch him for fear of making it worse, but he needs to help his brother. He just doesn't know how.  
"Call Bonnie!" Stefan exclaims to her. "Or-or- Damon, calm down! You don't need to breathe, just relax."  
Damon's muscles go slack as he listens to Stefan. He stops panicking then, stops trying to breathe at all. He tears at his shirt until he can see the skin over his rib cage. There are black veins snaking around and outward from his heart. He moves shaking fingers over the area, eyes wide and afraid. "Dying?" He breathes on what must be the last air in his lungs.  
"No. No, no, no, no, no," Stefan gasps. It is in this moment that Elena sees his humanity return completely, the last traces the damage left behind from Klaus's compulsion finally leaving him as he stares, in horror, at his brother's chest. She always knew it would be Damon who brought him back, Elena thinks, detached, as she counts the hollow rings on the other end of the phone line.  
" _Elena?_ " Her friend's groggy voice finally bleeds into her ear.  
"I need your help, Bonnie, please. Please, hurry. We're at the Boarding house." She hangs up before there can be any protest.  
Stefan is whispering to Damon, but she can't quite make out the words, until she realizes he's speaking a different language. It's slightly stilted, but still beautiful. She thinks maybe it's Italian, but she isn't entirely sure; the romantic languages sometimes sound so alike to her, and he's speaking softly and quickly.  
Damon's shaking his head, unable to tear his eyes away from the growing spiderweb of black across his chest.  
"Damon, Damon," he's chanting his brother's name over and over. He finally touches him, then, one hand over each of Damon's shoulders, as Damon leans his head back against the wall, his eyes fluttering closed. "No, Damon, you have to stay awake. Please." His skin suddenly no longer seems to sizzle under Stefan's hands, and Damon's eyes don't open. "Damon!" Stefan is frantic now, shaking his brother by his shoulders, thumping him up against the wall over and over again. "You can't be dead," he gasps, "You can't, _you can't_."  
Elena backs away until the backs of her knees bump against Damon's bed, and she collapses onto it. She is terrified and devastated, tears streaming unhindered down her cheeks onto her heaving chest. She can't imagine life without Damon, and for the second time this year, she believes she has no choice. She watches the scene before her. Stefan is crying into his brother's hair, and Damon is completely unmoving beneath him and so very pale. She can't see the grey veins taking over him through her blurred, tear-flooded vision, but she's sure they're there.  
She curls herself onto Damon's bed, her back to the two men she loves most, her body nearly convulsing with the force of her sobs. She's completely lost track of time when she hears stomping footsteps up the stairs. Bonnie must have finally arrived, if far too late. Elena can't bring herself to even try to find the energy to roll over and face her. Behind her closed eyelids, she can see Damon the way he was just hours ago; all swagger and smirks and that thing with his eyes. The way he loved her so, and she never even told him that she- that she... loved him, too. In that moment, the intensity of her sobs redouble as she finally admits to herself something she's denied for so very long. She loves Damon. She _loves_ Damon. She loves _Damon_. And now, he's...  
"What happened?" Bonnie whispers, going to Elena first. "What's going on?"  
All Elena can say is Damon's name. Over and over and over.  
Bonnie looks to the brothers then, moving to kneel silently beside Stefan, resting her hand on Damon's unmoving chest. She instantly gasps and jerks away. "Stefan," Bonnie whispers. "He's not dead."  
Stefan lifts his head, "What?"  
"He's alive. I can feel it. I can feel..."  
"What can you feel?" Comes from Elena.  
"His pain. He..." Bonnie looks uncomfortable, for all her supposed dislike of the darker-haired vampire, and alomst... sad. "He's screaming," she finishes in a whisper.  
Stefan looks at Damon's face, then. It's slack, but there's something different about it. "We have to help him," he pleads. "Bonnie, I'll do anything. Please help him."  
She nods, though she looks conflicted. "I'm not sure I can," she says. Then, at the devastation on Elena's face, she amends, "But I'll try. I promise I'll try."

 _To be continued..._

Please review, let me know if there's any interest in this story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Something Wicked**

 _A/N: I make no money off this story. The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me; rights belong to the CW, LJ Smith, Julie Plec, and any other original owners._

 _I have no beta, and I wrote this on my phone, so please be forgiving about the minor errors. Please review and enjoy._

 **Chapter Two: What We've Chosen**  
 _"Show me a hero, and I'll write you a tragedy."_ -F. Scott Fitzgerald

 **Previously...** _Bonnie looks to the brothers then, moving to kneel silently beside Stefan, resting her hand on Damon's unmoving chest. She instantly gasps and jerks away. "Stefan," Bonnie whispers. "He's not dead."_  
 _Stefan lifts his head, "What?"_  
 _"He's alive. I can feel it. I can feel..."_  
 _"What can you feel?" Comes from Elena._  
 _"His pain. He..." Bonnie looks uncomfortable, for all her supposed dislike of the darker-haired vampire, and alomst... sad. "He's screaming," she finishes in a whisper._  
 _Stefan looks at Damon's face, then. It's slack, but there's something different about it. "We have to help him," he pleads. "Bonnie, I'll do anything. Please help him."_  
 _She nods, though she looks conflicted. "I'm not sure I can," she says. Then, at the devastation on Elena's face, she amends, "But I'll try. I promise I'll try."_

They've moved Damon to the den, lying him prostrate on a table Stefan has pulled to the center of the room. His chest is still bare, the wirey black veins stark in contrast with his pale skin. He doesn't move. Stefan holds his breath. Elena holds back her tears. No one speaks to anyone else. Bonnie chants, her grimwoire resting open on her knees, and a tall glass in her hand. It starts slowly, from the deep slice she's made just below his heart, the black ooze begins to bubble up and out of him, dripping slowly into her waiting glass, searing any of his skin it touches. Stefan is on Damon's other side, unable to stop touching him for more than a few seconds since that moment upstairs. Elena imagines it's because of the terror she feels in her own chest. She wants nothing more than to clutch at Damon, to reassure herself that he won't disappear before her very eyes.  
It doesn't take long, surprisingly, before the black net of veins have faded and red begins to replace the black flowing out of him.  
Damon gasps, as though coming back to life, tears springing to his eyes as he tenses against the pain he still feels. He writhes against the cold table, glancing into each face of the three standing around him. He reaches out and grips Stefan's shirt with a sound caught somewhere between a sob and a groan falling from his lips. "Stef-"  
Stefan shushes him gently, pulling a trembling Damon into an embrace, whispering, "Thank you, Bonnie," over his brother's shoulder.  
Bonnie looks tired, but she smiles slightly and nods. Looking, then, to the glass of black poison in her hand. She waits the space of a few breaths before she murmurs tiredly, "It's going to come back. I didn't fix it, just removed the worst of it."  
Stefan stiffens, but doesn't let Damon go. "Does that mean..."  
"It will happen again unless we can find the source," Bonnie nods.  
Damon seems mostly recovered now, the deep slice in his chest slowly knitting itself back together, and he's pushing against Stefan's chest, gently, as it seems in this moment, Stefan needs the comfort more than he does. When he realizes Damon needs more space, Stefan releases him from his embrace but doesn't step back. Damon coughs, a sharp, hacking sound that grates against Elena's already frayed nerves. He slides off the table, but his legs falter beneath him. Stefan moves to support him, but Damon brushes him off with a shake of his head. "I'm fine," but his voice suggests he isn't. "Just need a drink," he nods to the drink cart and hobbles over to it, "or twelve," he adds in a mutter, his shoulders shaking with a cough again.  
Elena steps forward then, goes to stand beside him. "Damon," she whispers, "are you really alright?"  
"Peachy," he smirks, glancing at her while pouring a healthy amount of bourbon in a tumbler.  
"Don't lie to us, Damon. We want to help you."  
Damon doesn't look at her again. He drinks deeply for a moment before filling his glass again. He turns to Bonnie now, raising his drink to her. "Thank you," he says, his voice still a bit gravelly. "I owe you. I know, I know," he continues quickly as she opens her mouth to respond. "You only did it for Elena," he sighs, "And maybe even a little for Stefan. But..." he moves to sit heavily on one couch, the exhaustion hanging profoundly in the dark circles scoring his eyes. "I owe you; you saved my life. I don't take that lightly."  
Bonnie nods gravely and replies, "Yes, it's true I didn't do it for you. Entirely for you," she adds begrudgingly. "However, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to speak privately."  
Stefan looks away from Damon to meet Bonnie's eyes. He sees nothing of malice there, so he nods, striding toward the basement. "It's the least I can do," he consedes. "I'll get you a stronger drink, brother," he smiles slightly at Damon, then. "I'm glad you're alive," he says softly as he pulls the cellar door open and disappears down the stone steps, the door slamming closed behind him.  
Elena hesitates longer, unable to tear her eyes away from the darker brother. "Okay," she says, forcing movement into her numb legs. "Damon," she murmurs from the base of the stairway that eventually leads to Stefan's room, offering him a watery smile over her shoulder, "I'm happy, too."

Damon gazes after her retreating back long after she disappears up the stairs, before his eyes finally land back on the witch across the den. "Is this where you tell me what my payment will be?" He asks without preamble.  
"Yes, and no," she says, taking a seat on the couch opposite him, the poison still clenched in one hand. "First, I need you to smell this. You have to tell me exactly what you smell."  
He swallows but nods. Leaning forward as he sets his empty tumbler on the coffee table and rests his palms on his thighs, he inhales deeply when she thrusts the thick, dark liquid under his nose. Immediately, he sits back, the veins beneath his eyes slithering to the surface. He takes a deep breath, or three, before he fixes her with a steely gaze. "Blood."  
"Be more specific." She prompts.  
"Elena's blood."  
"Have you feed from her?"  
"No."  
Fire lights in her eyes. "You're lying." She slams the full, tall glass on the wooden table to her left. Damon is disturbed by the fact that it doesn't ripple even slightly at this movement. "Don't toy with me, Damon. I don't _have_ to help you again."  
He narrows his eyes, feeling every single year of his too-long life. "If I have, it hasn't been for months."  
She shakes her head, "It doesn't work that way." Her face suddenly becomes thoughtful. "Unless..." If he expects her to elaborate, he says nothing when she doesn't. "My payment," she says at long last, "is your blood."  
His eyes darken. "You know what that means," he growls.  
"I do. As do you." She hands him two vials, slightly larger than the standard hospital variety.  
He doesn't need her to tell him to fill them. His fangs slam through his gums in response to the fury he doesn't otherwise act upon. He tears his sharp canines through the skin on the inside of his hand, then palms the red that pours out because of his harshness. It only takes a moment, and Bonnie is slightly impressed by the minimal amount he drips. When they're full, he forces the stoppers back in each and then swipes his tongue along his palm before scrubbing his hand against the jeans hung low on his hips. He closes them into her awaiting hand, his fingers lingering only a moment longer than necessary. "Don't misplace that," he makes an attempt at slight humor, dispite this monumental moment between them.  
"I won't," she replies unnecessarily. "I'll be back in the morning."  
He nods, sinking back into the couch wearily, exhaustion overpowering him. He glances at his palm as the front door closes behind Bonnie. Blood drips persistently down over his wrist. He is endlessly annoyed that he doesn't notice Stefan's return before his younger brother catches a sight of the rich red running down his arm. "What happened?" The panic is back in his tone, the blood bags he's brought up dropping, momentarily forgotten, to the opposite couch as he rushes to grip Damon's forearm. Though he's relieved his touch no longer sears Damon's skin, he feels his ever-present worry swell within him as he asks, "And why isn't it healing?"  
"It doesn't matter, nicked myself," he admits with a shrug. "It's bleeding because witchy bled me dry."  
Stefan's eyes lift to search his face, his frown growing slightly at what he sees. "You do look like shit," he tries a smile. Fails.  
"Gee, thanks. I feel like a bucket of sunshine." His hand falls back into his lap as soon as Stefan releases it, which causes his brother to falter. "I'm fine, Stef. Thirsty, is all. Would you mind?" He gestures to the discarded blood bags, his veins slithering again as if to reiterate his words. Though he usually exercises more restraint of his hunger, he's entirely too spent and famished at this point to bother.  
"Yes, right, of course." Stefan is quick to deposit them into his brother's lap. "Do you want them... warmed up?" He finishes weakly as Damon tears into the first.  
He shakes him head unnecessarily, drinking deeply. He finishes the first with a sigh, his eyes falling closed as the veins continue to fluttered underneath his lashes. He's inwardly thrilled to note his vampire hearing has returned, even from one, single blood bag. He knows this because he can hear quiet breathing on the staircase behind him. Interesting. He wonders how long she's been there, what she overheard. Tries to force down the emotions that serge up in him at the mere sound of her lungs filling and emptying. He lifts the second bag to his lips without opening his eyes, his fangs opening it effortlessly. The veins that had yet to fade, darken and quicken as the blood touches his tongue. He pointedly ignores the tightness in his jeans as he listens to her pulse jump and skip. Perhaps she isn't quite as disgusted by his nature as she pretends to be. "Come out, come out, Elena," he says in that sing song voice he reserves mostly for her as he lowers the second empty bag from his mouth.  
She clears her throat, embarrassed at having been caught. She steps from the shadows a few steps up and moves back into the den, the firelight casting long shadows over the three of them. If Stefan finds her behavior curious, he doesn't comment. "How are you feeling?" She asks quietly.  
"Just great, Elena," he replies lightly, though it drips with sarcasm.  
"Can't you be serious for a single moment?" She can't help the anger that wells within her, filling the painfully empty spaces her fear and heartbreak left behind. Sometimes she thinks he does it on purpose, irritating her, because he just knows exactly what she needs at any given moment. "Do you have any idea how worried we were?"  
Damon's smirk slides slightly from his face, leaving it lopsided and, if it's even possible, leaving his face more attractive. "I'm sorry," he bites sarcasticly, "next time I'm poisoned and nearly killed, I'll be sure to give you a heads up beforehand."  
She crosses her arms over her chest, hmph-ing in that way that secretly drives him mad. He can't help that his eyes drift lower for just a moment at this action, unable to not notice the way her arms push up her breasts just slightly. "I don't think you understand, Damon. You nearly died! You have no idea-" he's right in front of her before she can finish the sentence.  
"No idea what, Elena? No idea what's it like to watch someone that you care about die? Do you forget the night you _sacrificed yourself on an alter at Klaus's feet_?" He hisses.  
She falters slightly, but her anger doesn't fade. "No, I remember perfectly. I was there, remember? Remember that time you shoved your arm in Tyler's mouth?" She returns. "You have no idea what would happen to the rest of us if you- if you..."  
He takes one more step, now nose to nose with her. "Enlighten me," he dares her.  
Elena shakes her head, flustered, but too stubborn to admit the way he's making her feel. She makes the fatal mistake of glancing at Stefan. The look in his eyes drenches her in guilt. He's watching their exchange with a strange light in his eyes. _He knows_ , her mind whispers, _Stefan knows you're in love with Damon._ "Is it so much of a stretch to believe people actually care about you, Damon?" She asks quietly, her anger completely extinguished by the crushing weight of her guilt.  
"Yes," he replies shortly. He relents then, moving back to the drink cart and taking his intense gaze with him.  
Stefan, who has remained silent through the entire exchange, speaks up then. "We love you, brother."  
 _We_. Elena pales, watching Stefan closly, though he gives nothing away.  
Damon sighs then, and Elena is fairly sure he breathes, "Too much," but she can't be certain. He downs a third glass of the auburn drink he prefers, before he turns back to them. "I'm beat," he states, rather unnecessarily, Elena thinks, as the sheer exhaustion is etched all over his face and burned into the back of her retenas.  
"Yes," Stefan agrees easily, "Let's all try to get some sleep."  
Damon turns, still a bit unsteady to the stairs and stumbles up them without another word. At Elena's murmur of goodnight, he gives a half-hearted wave over one shoulder before he vanishes from her line of sight to his room above.  
Then there are two. Stefan moves to stand before Elena, a sad smile tugging at his lips and her heartstrings. He kisses her forehead gently before whispering, "The bed is made in the guest room across from Damon's." Elena stands completely still, dumbfounded and awed, staring after Stefan, long after he's gone. She does eventually climbs the stairs quietly and close the door with a snap. However, sleep is long in coming for her, the sun high in the sky before she can drag herself from the unfamiliar bed.

...

When Damon awakens some time later, he's groggy and still tired. He's certain he's been asleep over half the day, though it feels like he could sleep for another day. Or five. He's unsure at first what's woken him, but it isn't long before he hears her, somewhere off to his right. He's lying on his stomach, his head buried in a pillow, and he can't quite bring himself to get up to look at her just yet. "Morning, sunshine," he says to her though it's slightly muffled, his eyes still resolutely closed.  
"How do you feel? Honestly?"  
He hums thoughtfully before admitting, "Tired." He groans, stretching aching muscles. "What time is it?"  
"Nearly noon," Elena murmurs. "You've been asleep for almost three days."  
His head shoots up at this, "What? Why didn't you wake me up?"  
"Stefan tried, to get you to eat," she elaborates with a shrug, "You seemed like you needed it." She's quiet for a long time. "Are you feeling any... symptoms?" She finally asks so quietly he can barely hear her. He needs to feed.  
"No," he answers, rising from the bed and stretching very cat-like and sinewy. "Just tired. Which, on all counts, I really shouldn't be."  
"Stefan thinks it's the poison."  
"He's just worried."  
"So am I."  
He turns to face her then, "Don't be. I'll be fine. Bonnie will fix it."  
Her face falls at this. "I'm not sure." He raises his brows to prompt her to continue. "She came by yesterday, but she couldn't figure out why this happening. She did bring you some herbs to drink, though. They should help keep it at bay for longer."  
He makes a face. "Probably vervain, knowing her."  
Elena cracks a reluctant smile at this. "Would you like to come downstairs? I can heat up some blood for you?"  
"How long have you been in here?" She doesn't answer. "Watching me sleep? That's a little creepy, even for you."  
She shakes her head, exasperated, her smile widening ever so slightly. "I've been in here a while," she admits and gestures to the stack of books on the table next to her chair.  
His eyes widen minutely. "Why, Elena, whatever will Saint Stefan say about you spending so much time with me? And while I was completely vulnerable." He clicks his tongue. "Scandalous."  
"We broke up," she says, the smile falling away.  
To his credit, Damon's expression stays remarkably neutral. "Why?"  
She climbs to her feet, turning for the door. "Because of you. Would you like one blood bag or two?"  
Damon's mouth falls open. _Smooth, Salvatore._ "W...what?" _Really smooth._ "I've been _unconscious_ for two and a half days!"

"One or two?" She repeats without looking at him.  
"Two," he says lamely. He starts after her, but as they trudge down the stairs, he finds words have escaped him.  
They reach the bottom, and before Elena can head down to the basement, she notices Stefan sitting at the island in the kitchen, a streaming mug set near him. He looks up when they approach, pushing the mug toward Damon with two fingers. "Morning," he says casually.  
Damon hums before drinking deeply, greatful, not for the first time, for this renewed bond with Stefan. "Thanks," he says when he's finished, sinking onto the stool beside his brother. "I can't believe you let me sleep away two days," he chides good-naturedly.  
"Me neither," Stefan returns, "You're snoring was driving me insane."  
Damon chokes on the last mouthful of blood. Swallowing with some difficulty, he says, "Did you just joke? Seriously? Are you _sure_ it's only been two days?"

Elena smiles gently. She loves when they're like this. Companionable and easy. Not down each other's throats or slamming each other into walls or running each other through with whatever sharp, wooden object they can reach.  
Stefan is smirking fondly at his brother, but there's a trace of worry behind his eyes. "How are you feeling?"  
"I'll never _not_ get asked this question again, will I?" Damon asks no one in particular. "I'm fine. No symptoms. Maybe judgy cured me, after all."

Stefan sighs, "I don't think so. Your hand is shaking."  
Damon glances down at it. He frowns and clenches his fist. "I feel okay, brother. You brood too much."  
"So I've been told," but his smile doesn't return this time. "There's another bag beside the microwave for you. Then you're drinking as much of Bonnie's herb mixture as you can stand without hurling."  
"Oh, goodie."

...

The herb mixture tastes even worse than he'd imagined. It's a toss up between cow shit and rotten lawn clippings, but he manages to choke down two glasses before he's certain he looks as green as he feels. "I can't. No more."  
Stefan nods his consent, but adds, "You have to drink more in a few hours."  
"Yes, mother."  
"It's important, Damon. You remember the reason why you've been unconscious for 56 hours."  
Damon groans, but says nothing further. He collapses on the couch closest to the fireplace, deciding even bourbon will have to wait a while until his stomach settles. He sighs as he closes his eyes and allows his head to fall back onto the couch. He doesn't mean to fall asleep, but he's awoken to the sounds of cooking in the kitchen. Elena and Stefan aren't in the room with him. Yawning, he weighs the pros and cons of curling up on the couch and going back to sleep. He decides against it, irritated with how bone-tired he still feels. He doesn't have the urge to immediately empty the contents of his stomache anymore, so he moves to pour a generous helping of alcohol into a crystal tumbler. Sipping lightly at it, he saunters into the kitchen. Stefan is standing behind the stove, flipping bacon in a pan. "You should probably leave the cooking to the professionals, Stef."  
Stefan glances at him, but doesn't reply. He grabs a fork to lift the fried pork from the pan onto the waiting plate and paper towel next to it on the counter. "Bonnie and Elena are in the library," he says when he's turning off the heat to the stove.  
Damon nods, but doesn't make a move to leave. He sips lightly at the bourbon in his hand. "You're brooding again," he comments casually.  
Stefan shakes his head as he twists the heat knob on the stove off. "I'm concerned about the timing of this. Don't you think it's a bit... odd that Klaus hasn't retaliated in any way?"  
Damon swallows thickly, "Say that again," he says quietly, his face pulled in concentration.  
"Klaus hasn't retaliated after the night of homecoming. What if..."  
"He did this? As revenge..." Damon nods, as if this is all unconcerning. "Makes sense. He does love his witches," Damon's eyes flare as he smirks darkly. "I should go confront him."  
"Absolutely not," Stefan barks.  
"Why? It's not like he couldn't have crushed me in an instant already if he wanted to. Obviously, this isn't _entirely_ about killing me."  
Stefan shakes his head. "Yeah, I'm sure provoking him is going to really help our situation."  
"What do you think we should do, then, Stefan?" He frowns, "I don't know about you, but this is getting pretty old." He slams his drink on the counter, the trembling that's worked its way up his arm infuriating him all at once.  
"Let's just- talk to Bonnie, alright?" Stefan placates quickly. "We'll make a plan."  
Damon hums thoughtfully before muttering, "Best laid plans..." as he saunters out of the kitchen.

...

Damon heaves into the porcelain, thankful Stefan is out hunting. He can't deal with his brother's concern again yet. He loathes being taken care of as though he's a fragile flower. This time is worse than the last, he thinks, the burning in his abdomen refusing to abate long after there isn't any blood or herbs left in him to violently force back up. He dry heaves several more times before he's able to collapse beside the toilet, spent. The smell makes his stomache roil, but he can't quite manage the strength to get back to his feet.  
He aches. He feels tired and so very old. His fingers can barely grip the flush handle on the toilet as they're shaking so badly. He lets his hand fall back to the floor beside him. Eventually, he drags himself to the shower, lets the scalding water beat across his skin. He leans heavily against the tile wall, then slides down it to seated, knowing if there was anything left in him, he'd still be retching against porcelain. The hot water doesn't last nearly long enough, and before he's certain he's ready to stumble out, he forces himself to his feet and slids open the door. He can't seem to muster the energy required to towel off before he slips on loose pants and heads in the direction of his bed and unconsciousness.  
Elena is waiting for him in his room, her eyes sad. "You were sick again, weren't you?"  
He's too weary to even lie to her now. He nods, stumbling to collapse in his bed. She lays down beside him, running soothing circles over his back. He's asleep before he can think too much about the way her actions make him feel.

...

Damon doesn't sleep long before he's roused by overwhelming nausea. His body heaves violently before he ever even reaches the bathroom, but he has nothing left to force up. He demands that Elena leave him. He can't stand her to see him this way. Though she's extremely reluctant to leave him at all, he slams the door in her face with a shake of his head.  
Elena swallows at her tears as she walks slowly down the steps. She doesn't make it quite to the bottom before she's forced to sit under the weight of her quiet sobs. At some point, she's pulled gently sideways into a pair of strong arms she thinks she could always recognize. She sighs and buries her head into Stefan's shoulder. In the time it takes her tears to slow down and dry up, Stefan doesn't speak. He can hear the noises his brother is trying to disguise even over the sound of the running faucet upstairs. He closes weary eyes and runs a hand up and down Elena's back. It's the only comfort he can offer her, as he can think of no words of use.  
When a loud knock sounds at the front door, Stefan's first thought is nothing good can be behind that door at such a late hour. Or, he supposes, such an early hour. Though none of them have seen much sleep this night, dawn is approaching. Elena stiffens, glancing back over her shoulder to look towards the sound as she wipes at the trace remnants of her sorrow from her face. "Who would that be at this hour?" She breathes, echoing the vampire's thoughts. Stefan shrugs as Elena climbs to her feet. He's shortly on her heels as she moves to find out.

When Elena's fingers twist the knob and pull back the door, Klaus stands behind it, the shadows hiding most of his face. "Elena," he greets conversationally. "Invite me in, will you?"  
Stefan is standing just behind her right shoulder, and if she tries hard enough, she can still hear Damon's groans from upstairs.  
"What do you want, Klaus?" Stefan's voice is hard and hateful.  
Klaus smirks. "Is that anyway to greet the man who has come to save your brother's life?"  
Elena straightens at this, "You better not be lying." She turns slightly to give him access to walk by.  
As there's no living owner of this house, Klaus easily steps past her without any verbal permission. They walk to the den, where the fire glows innocently off in one corner. "Start talking," Stefan says darkly. "You have five minutes."  
Klaus chuckles. "He doesn't sound so good, does he?"  
"Do you know why this is happening to him?" Elena whispers.  
"Yes. I also know a cure."  
There's a long silence, before Stefan finally snaps, "Well? What is it?"  
"I have to drain his blood completely."  
Elena gasps, "But then he'll die anyway!"  
"I'll feed him my blood afterward, of course," Klaus waves a hand, as though this should have been entirely obvious.  
"And what do you want in return?" Stefan murmurs.  
"Elena must come with me."  
Stefan is on him before Elena can even blink, Klaus's expensive suit lapels being crushed in his harsh grip. "Over my dead body."  
Klaus shakes his head with a dark laugh. "You act as though I couldn't have killed you already."  
"You'll give me your word that Damon will be completely cured?" Elena breathes.  
Stefan stiffens, "No, Elena. Don't even think about this asinine bargain. Damon would stake himself before he'd let you become a walking, talking blood bag for the rest of your life."  
Klaus laughs humorlessly now. "Oh? And the alternative? You and Damon will get her killed. At least with me, she'll be entirely protected. She can marry a decent, human boy, have a white picket fence and 2.5 children."  
"Don't pretend to care about any of that, Klaus." Stefan growls. "You don't give a shit about Elena's happiness; all you care about is Elena having children to carry on the line of doppelgangers."  
"That is a perk," he agrees. "However, I'm here offering you a deal. I could've just taken her and left you to watch your miserable brother die a slow and painful death." Klaus grins wolfishly, "For good, this time."  
"You son of a-"  
"I'll do it." Though her voice is quiet, it bounces around the otherwise suddenly deafeningly silent room.  
Klaus looks as though Christmas has come twice this year, and Stefan's expression is a mixture of fury, devastation and fear.  
"Now, now, O' Great Evil One, let's not be making any deals which directly involve someone who isn't even around to consent." Damon stands at the base of the stairs. His stance is, for all outward appearances, strong and tall, but he's gripping the banister a little too tightly, his face a little too pale. His eyes, however, burn brightly as he glares at Klaus. "No one wants your help, Klaus. Kindly get the hell out of my house. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out, hmm?"  
Klaus blurs to stand directly in front of the darker-haired vampire. "You put on at good show, don't you, Damon? Well, perhaps I'll just speed this process along, shall I?" Before anyone can move, the Original's fangs are sunk deeply into Damon's neck.  
Damon's hand flys from the banister, and he shoves against Klaus's chest, fighting in vain to push him away. His head is forced sharply to one side, his eyes already drooping. He makes a gasping noise he chokes upon as Klaus takes a long pull from his neck before the fight begins to leave his body, his hands sliding weakly back down to his sides.  
"No!" Elena screams, running to them, pushing with all her might to get Klaus away from Damon. It's too late, though. Finally, Klaus throws his head back with a sigh, his fangs tearing loose from Damon, blood dripping down Klaus's chin. He licks his lips around his fangs and lets go of Damon's shoulders, leaving the elder Salvatore to drop bonelessly to the floor, clutching weakly at his neck. "You bastard!" Elena is shouting at Klaus, beating her fists against his chest repeatedly and ineffectualy.  
Stefan blurs to kneel beside Damon, his eyes wide and sad. "Damon?" He murmurs.  
"Brother," Damon gurgles. "Don't let her... do this."  
"I... I can't lose you, too."  
Damon frowns. "Please." Blood is staining his teeth.  
Klaus pulls Elena to his chest, smoothing down her hair, shushing her the way a mother does a small, frightened child. "Don't cry," he says, "All you have to do is agree to come with me, and I'll finish the job of curing Damon." Elena is shaking her head, her sobs racking her entire body. "He'll die if you don't, Elena." Klaus continues with surprising gentleness. "From the looks of him, it isn't far off now."  
Elena turns fearfully to look at the man she can't help but love more than even herself. Damon meets her eyes, a thousand things he'd like to tell her washing over his face but only one passing his bloody lips, "Don't do this," he pleads. Then, after a few strangled breathes, "Love you, 'Lena." His eyes lids are fluttering, and his hand is slackening and falling away from the bloody holes in his throat.  
"Damon." She's making this keening, anguished noise that builds from her toes, "Damon, please." She pushes away from Klaus as she tears her eyes away from Damon to look the Original in the eye. "I'll do it. I'll do whatever you want, you evil monster. But please, _please_ don't let him die like this." She's trembling so badly she can hardly stay on her feet.

Klaus doesn't need to be told twice. He strides to Damon's prone form and hauls him up. His teeth are back in Damon's neck before the dark-haired vampire can do anything to stop him.  
Immediately, the pain rouses him. He's struggling in the Original's grasp, "No. No, I won't let you take her." He coughs. "Get off me-" Klaus takes a particularly hard pull of Damon's blood and his words break off on a moan. "S-stop." But his voice is quiet now, his eyes falling closed. "'Lena, run." As if she ever listened to him before. As if she has anywhere she can hide. His consciousness ebbs away from him, black spots dancing over his vision any time he can manage to pry his heavy eye lids up. "Stop," he breathes thickly as darkness engulfs him completely.  
Though Damon goes slack in his grasp, Klaus doesn't stop draining him for several long moments. When he finally pulls back, he immediately tears at his wrist and forces it to Damon's mouth. Nothing happens. "You've killed him," Elena sobs softly.  
"No, he's just being stuborn," Klaus growls, forcing the other man's mouth open. As soon the blood has filled his mouth and begins to spill over his lips, his throat twitches, and the Original's blood finally trickles down his pharynx. After a moment, Damon's lips latch onto Klaus's wrist of their own volition, and he begins to drink in earnest, gulping greedily as the veins under his eyes dance to life. "Easy, Damon," Klaus growls as Damon's fangs sink into his flesh deeply and painfully.  
Damon makes a sound in his throat, somewhere between a growl and a groan, moving his head slightly to gain better access. Stefan is watching with an expression of disgust, "Stop," he mutters. "That's enough. Klaus, stop him. He's already going to hate himself. Don't do this to him."  
Klaus smirks wickedly, "I think it's too late for that, mate."  
Damon's eyes open finally, but they're glazed and flooded with red. He's still drinking deeply, growls erupting from him occationally. It's been a very long time since Elena has seen Damon this way, animalistic and completely lost to his hunger. His face is dark and bloody, his eyes open but not actually _seeing_ what's in front of him. Every involuntary noise he makes pulls at something low in her belly, making her feel hot and uncomfortable in a way no one else can make her feel. She can't possibly look away, but she's afraid, terrified for him, in a different way than she had been before. She loves this vampire, far more than she should. She would gladly lay down her life for him, but she's afraid that her deal with the devil will break him thoroughly. That his inability to refuse what Klaus is currently offering him will later evoke a self-loathing in him that he'll never be able to shake. Regret and guilt bubble over the arousal she feels.

Stefan is repeating his brother's name, trying to awaken some awareness in him. He isn't affective. Finally, after a long while, Klaus forcibly removes Damon from his wrist, his irritating grin never leaving his lips. "That's enough, now," he laughs.  
Damon stumbles backwards slightly, the bloodlust fading from his eyes, slowly being replaced by horror. "I... _Shit_." He says finally, closing his eyes against the whirlwind of emotions left behind as he realizes just exactly what he's done. He moves backward until he hits the wall, making a sound of anguish in his chest. "Shit," he repeats at last, opening blue eyes again. His gaze quickly flicks to Klaus. "You didn't tell Elena the best part of all this, did you?" He sounds angry, but his expression is agonized.  
Klaus laughs, "I thought you'd like the pleasure."  
Elena's eyebrows have nearly disappeared into her hairline by now. When no one speaks, Stefan clears his throat. "By ingesting so much of Klaus's blood immediately after Klaus drank all of his, they've established a blood connection," Stefan still looks disgusted and furious.  
Elena blanches, "What does that mean?" Her voice is quiet and weak even to her own ears.  
"Because all of the blood sustaining Damon is Klaus's, it means Damon is essentially sired to Klaus." The elder Salvatore looks about three seconds from being violently ill. "Not only have you served up your soul to Klaus on a silver platter," Stefan continues, his voice dead, "You've given him Damon's, too."

 _To be continued...  
_

 **Rating will most likely change to M with the next chapter due to violence, strong language, and some adult scenes.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Something Wicked**_  
 _A/N: I make no money off this story. The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me; rights belong to the CW, LJ Smith, Julie Plec, and any other original owners.  
I have no beta, and I wrote this on my phone, so please be forgiving about the minor errors. Please review and enjoy._

 _ **Chapter Three: What We've Lost**_

 _"He burns my skin. Nevermind about the shape I'm in; I'll keep you safe tonight. Move your body when the sunlight dies."_ -My Chemical Romance

 _ **Previously**_ _... Stefan clears his throat. "By ingesting so much of Klaus's blood immediately after Klaus drank all of his, they've established a blood connection," Stefan still looks disgusted and furious.  
Elena blanches, "What does that mean?" Her voice is quiet and weak even to her own ears.  
"It means Damon is essentially sired to Klaus." The elder Salvatore looks about three seconds from being violently ill. "Not only have you served up your soul to Klaus on a silver platter," Stefan continues, his voice dead, "You've given him Damon's, too."_

Klaus laughs, "Come here, Damon." Damon flattens himself against the wall, every muscle in him straining for a long moment before he comes to stand in front of Klaus. He swallows thickly as Klaus says, "You'll do anything I tell you to, won't you, Damon? No compulsion required."  
"Fuck you," Damon spits.  
"How about I tell you to stake your brother, hmm? Or command you to take Elena right here in the middle of this room?"  
Damon's eyes close in defeat. He knows he can't defeat the Original.  
Klaus chuckles, "I won't break you so soon, Damon. I've got so much fun planned for you. Can't ruin it all at once, now, can we?" He tuts as though chastising a child. "I believe we'll need to test the bond, though." He lifts Damon's chin until he meets his eyes. "Don't pout. We'll start small. Give me your ring."  
Damon pales, but moves to do as he's told, forcing the large ring from his middle finger and into Klaus's palm. Stefan storms forward now, unable to take any more of this. "That's enough," he snaps. "What's wrong with you?"  
Klaus doesn't bother to respond to Stefan. "Open the curtains, stand in front of the window until I tell you that you may move."  
Legs stiff, Damon turns and slowly stalks to the east-facing window. His hands tremble and hesitate, gripping the thick fabric covering the pane with white knuckles. Losing his internal struggle, he wrenches the curtains to each side, bathing him in bright, early morning sunlight. At first, the only sound in the quiet room is Damon's breathy gasp of pain. A quick, stuttered exhale follows it as his face twists in agony. Then, as Damon's skin begins to really sizzle, three screams pierce the air, Elena's a few octaves higher than the brothers'. Damon's skin is red and blackened and smoking, his eyes falling closed as pain ignites in every cell in his body. He yells again, and Stefan rushes to him, trying to force Damon out of the sunlight. Damon shakes his head, panting, "Just leave me, Stef. If you stop this... he'll just think up something else." His words are halting and pained in between gasps. Stefan shakes his head and steps in front of Damon, shadowing his brother from the sunlight as much as he can. The dark-haired vampire groans in relief as the searing agony lessens slightly.  
"You may move, Damon," Klaus growls, rolling his eyes.  
Damon jerks himself to the left so hard he leaves a dent in the wall he slams into in his haste to escape the sun. He's panting, squinting at the Original as his skin slowly fades back to its usual pale hue, if still a bit more pink than it typically is. Stefan forces the curtains closed again, rage causing his shoulders to tremble. Elena finds that she's sunk to the floor, the bare wood cold against her knees. She can't even bring herself to speak, her eyes glued to Damon.  
"Just kill me, Stefan," Damon sighs, his eyes finally closing as his head falls back against the wall he's still resting against.  
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Damon," Klaus snaps, flicking Damon's ring at him.  
Damon catches it deftly, without opening his eyes, shoving it back on his finger with slightly more force than is strictly necessary. "You evil fuck."  
Klaus clicks his tongue as he rounds on Elena. "That's no way to speak to your betters. Come Elena, I'll give you a few hours to pack."  
A sob bubbles up from her lips at his words, and she makes no move to stand up. "I-I," she can't speak properly through her convulsive tears. "Please," Though she's not entirely sure what she's begging him for anymore. She feels as though her entire life has been ruined beyond recognition in the space of less than a few hours. And she feels mostly to blame.  
The Original Hybrid squats down before her. "Now, now, Elena. No need for tears. I'm sure Damon will be joining us. Maybe even your brother."  
Stefan growls, "Leave Jeremy out this! Aren't you already stealing enough?!"  
Klaus barks a short laugh as he rises. "It's Elena's choice. Wouldn't want her to be lonely, now would we? Damon, come along. I dislike to be kept waiting. Things to do, you understand; people to eat."  
Climbing rigidly to his feet, Damon obeys. Before he can cross the room, his brother quickly blocks his path, gripping each of his shoulders to halt his path to Klaus for as long as possible. "I'll fix this," Stefan vows, "Whatever it takes."  
Damon eyes are faded and dull when he meets Stefan's. "Just stay alive, alright, baby bro?" He sounds defeated, and so very much unlike himself that Stefan can hardly stand to look at him. He pulls Damon into an embrace his brother doesn't return and breathes something into Damon's ear that Elena can't even hope to catch. Damon smirks lopsidedly, but it's a shadow of its former glory, before he sidesteps Stefan and moves to stand beside Klaus. "Just turn it off, Damon." Stefan whispers, unable to look at his brother. "It'll make it easier on you."  
"He can't," Klaus laughs as he saunters out the front door, Elena following numbly behind him, and Damon trailing after them.

...

"No, Bonnie, there's nothing I can do. Damon's stronger than I am, and he can't fight Klaus on his own." A pause. "Yes, Elena agreed to it, but... she didn't realize the full extent." A longer pause. "It's a blood bond. He doesn't have to agree with what Klaus asks, but it holds more sway over him than compulsion. Klaus's blood is the only blood in his veins." A sigh as he listens to whatever is said on the other end. "I'm not sure we can get her away from Klaus with Damon under his control." He can feel a headache forming behind his eyes as he listens to Bonnie's words again. "Will a locater spell still work? You're sure?" Stefan nods. "Alright. I'll pick you up in five. We may not have much time before he leaves town with them."

...

It's been five days. Five long, hopeless days. Damon is vengeful and miserable by this point. The elder Salvatore had at first believed the Original would take them to the Michaelson Manor. He was wrong, but the large plantation house they are taken to is only a few miles outside of town. It reminds Damon of his childhood home, all towering, white columns and flat facade, and he doesn't appreciate the resemblance. Klaus, true to his word, had allowed Elena several hours on the first day to pack a few bags of everything that she'd like to keep from her old life. Through the entire process, he'd forced Damon to stand beside him and watch the anguish on Elena's face grow as the finality of her plight sank in completely. Damon had been careful to keep his mouth shut, which went remarkably well until Klaus directly asked him if the younger vampire was hungry, with an added, "Don't lie, now."  
"Yes," Damon had hissed, the word burning as it left his tongue against his will.  
Klaus had bitten into his own wrist then, forced it in front of Damon's face. "My blood is the only blood you're allowed to ingest. None other. Now, drink. Can't have your hunger affecting your ability to obey me, now can we?"  
With no choice but to do exactly as Klaus had commanded, Damon's fangs forced through his gums as his lips closed over the bleeding flesh of Klaus's wrist. Swallowing both the rich liquid and his own pride, it was in that moment Damon made a plan. With Klaus's order ringing sharply in his ears, Damon focused intently on _exactly_ what Klaus had said. The Hybrid said he could only ingest his blood... not that he _had_ to ingest blood. And therein lied his loophole. He couldn't obey Klaus's every whim after he desiccated himself, could he? With this in mind, for the past five terrible days, Damon has been careful to take the proffered glass of blood from Klaus but not drink any of it. By now, the insides of his veins are writhing together in their sandpaper dryness. His mood continues to sour as Klaus continues to come up with orders for Damon to complete, each more despicable than the last. The Original bastard does it all with a sick smirk lifting the corners of his mouth, his amusement growing with each ounce of Damon's self-respect he effortlessly obliterates.

...

Today's degrading command is one that Damon has been dreading. Up until now, he's been mostly running Klaus's more boring errands: rounding up stray werewolves to be turned into hybrids, pilfering blood bags from several surrounding area hospitals so as not to raise suspicion by hitting up just one, throwing Stefan off their trail, and the like. Today, however, is the worst thing he's been forced to do so far. Klaus and several of his hybrid minions have a ravaging and insatiable appetite, and not just for blood. So, Damon has been stricken with job of finding suitable humans for both requirements. As he compels the third woman into the back seat of the car Klaus has given him, he closes his eyes and lets his head fall against the roof of the car with a loud thud. Years ago, with his humanity switched decidedly to off, he wouldn't have cared much about this, perhaps. Today- now, however, all he can see in each young woman are pieces of Elena. Dark hair, then doe eyes, but mostly... innocence. Innocence that's about to be stolen away forever. He's leading these women to their deaths, eventually, after they've served their full purpose; all he can think is at least it's not Elena. And as he ducks into the driver's seat, he's fairly sure he should feel even more guilty about that line of thinking.  
As Damon enters with his compelled charge trailing behind him, he experiments with fighting against Klaus's wishes. He drags his feet, manages even once to stop entirely for the space of a few seconds. He turns to the first female behind him, attempts to compel her to run. All he manages to force past his lips is, "R-" The word dies in his throat, leaving a bitter taste of blood in his mouth.  
Klaus is waiting for him upon his return. He silently appraises each human, asking for a name occasionally that Damon doesn't even bother listening to. However, after several minutes, Klaus turns back to the younger vampire. "Which one would like, Damon?"  
"Excuse me?"  
"You heard me. You can't drink from them, of course, but certainly you'd like one-"  
"No. I wouldn't," Damon snaps sharply, forcing down his disgust. "Can I go now?" He makes his best attempt at bored detachment. "I've done your bidding for the day, Klaus. I'd like to-"  
Klaus saunters in front of Damon, his grin slipping only slightly. In a soft, yet equally menacing voice, he says, "I don't recall asking you _what_ you wanted, only whom."  
Damon squares his shoulders and takes one single step closer to the Original. "And I don't remember ever asking you to compel me a fuck buddy. I can land my own dates, thanks," his voice is laced with venom and malice.  
"Perhaps you've forgotten who I am." Klaus's eyes flash once before Damon is thrown entirely through the wall behind him. Wood from the wall's framing impales him on the way through. Sighing heavily after he lands in a heap across the next room, Damon closes his eyes and wishes that damn timber would've been 6 inches higher and slightly to the left.

...

On the ninth day, Klaus's finally leaves them, to run an errand he says, giving Damon a simple order: neither him nor Elena are allowed to leave this house, they are not to answer the door, nor make any attempts to contact anyone they know. An hour after he's gone, Elena builds up the courage to speak to Damon, whom she's been avoiding for over a week. "I'm sorry," she says without preamble. He's sitting against the wall, one leg bent at the knee, the other straight out in front of him. Despite their grim situation, he appears to all the world, mostly relaxed.  
Damon's eyes graze over her before returning to the wall in front of him. "I don't blame you," he eventually says quietly.  
This surprises her. "You don't?"  
"No, Elena. I blame myself. I've always known you're an insufferable martyr. I should've never drank his blood. I've thought about that night a hundred times. If I just would've kept my damn fangs to myself, none of this would've-"  
"That's not true," she argues quickly. "You would've died."  
"It only takes a few drops to heal a werewolf bite, Elena. I took 3 liters. I just couldn't stop, I... I was just..." he shakes his head bitterly. "Doesn't matter."  
"You look tired," she says suddenly.  
"I'm not."  
"But you look-"  
"I haven't fed," he bites shortly, cutting her off.  
"W-why?"  
He looks at her again. His expression is tortured. "It's the only way I can stop this. I can't take it. I have to do anything he says, Elena. _Everything he says_. Do you have any idea what that's like? What he's already forced me to do? What if he asks me to go after you next? I can't stop. I can't _not_ do whatever it is. No matter how hard I fight it. No matter how despicable it is."  
Elena frowns, her eyes welling up without her permission. "I'm sorry."  
"Stop saying that!" He shouts.  
A tear drips from one eyes as she nods, apologetic.  
"Shit, Elena. Don't cry." He sighs heavily. "I didn't mean... I just... I'm hungry and angry, so damn angry."  
"And hurt," she breathes.  
He flinches, but doesn't deny her words for once. "He'll be back soon, Elena." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a vail. "This is all I could get away with. You'll have to ration it as much as you can because I'm not sure when I'll be able to get my hands on more."  
She steps lightly to him to accept the proffered gift. When she's leaning down, standing over him, she realizes what it is. Vervain. "I can't take this. Why don't you drink it? Then you won't-"  
"It won't work for me," he offers a small, sad smile as he forces the vial into her hand. "He isn't compelling me. So it won't do me any good. But you," his eyes are warm and loving, more than she's seen from him in far too long, "You could get away, Elena."  
She shakes her head, "I can't leave you here."  
"Yes, you can. Please," he jumps to his booted feet, suddenly frantic. "You have to, the first chance you get. Run. Run, Elena, and don't you dare look back. Promise me."  
She shakes her head, her shoulders trembling under the strain of holding back her tears. "I can't leave you."  
"It kills me to see you here, with him, taking your blood whenever he feels like it. I can take care of myself. Please, Elena. I'll never ask for another thing again if you do this. Promise me, Elena. _Promise me_."  
She's crying in earnest now. "Alright," she whispers, "I promise to run away the first chance he gives me."  
He smiles, then, really smiles, and pulls her into an embrace. He whispers he loves her into her dark hair, and when he pulls back, she thinks there's a single tear track on his cheek. She can't be sure, however, for the moment he lets her go, he blurs to other side of the room just before the door bangs open.  
"Miss me?" Klaus laughs. His eyes roam over Elena. "Damon," he says without taking his eyes away from his prized doppelganger, "You've made the poor girl cry. What've you done this time?" But he chuckles and turns to the darker-haired man. "Now, I have a request. Or really, a demand." Damon swallows thickly but squares his shoulders. "You're going to get that damn brother of yours and bring him to me."  
Damon flinches and gazes resolutely into the fireplace. "I don't know where he is."  
Klaus flits in front of Damon, much faster than Elena can see. "You'll find him," he says dangerously. "And you'll bring him to me. With whatever force is necessary."  
Damon closes his eyes in defeat, nodding once. He gives Elena one, last, meaningful glance out of the corner of his eyes before he disappears out the door and into the night.

...

Elena's chance is, coincidentally, a few hours after Damon storms off into the night to find Stefan. She's learned, from Klaus's angry phone calls and furious orders to his hybrids, that Stefan has been pulling all the stops to get her and Damon released. Klaus rages on, throws things, finally winds himself up into a fierce hunger. He's distracted by his anger, and pulls harshly on her arm until she's gazing into his eyes. "You'll stay put while I'm gone. No escape attempts," his pupils are dilated, his compulsion incredibly strong in his fury. Not stronger, however, than Damon's concentrated vervain.  
Klaus blurs off into the night, too hungry and vengeful to notice the way her heart is pounding furiously. Elena counts to three hundred and eighty four before she gathers the courage to run back through the house to the back door. It isn't locked with anything more than a deadbolt she flicks open from the inside. She isn't sure how many hybrids are left in the house, or if they'll hear the door open, but all she can think about is the look on Damon's face while he begged her to run. And so, she does, hard and fast, until she can't possibly run anymore. Still, she stumbles as quickly as she can through the thick trees. She had the mind to shove her phone into her back pocket, but now the screen refuses to light up no matter how many times she frantically presses the button. Which is fair, as she can't remember the last time she charged the damn thing. Swallowing against the dread rising up within her, she steels herself for the journey ahead.

After what must have been several hours, she sees lights through the voliage. As she steps out of the treeline into a wide and empty field, she's stunned when she realizes just how close they've been to Mystic Falls all along. She's maybe a mile from the Grill. She's home. All she has to do is find Bonnie. Or any of her friends, really. Someone to hide her until they can form a plan to save Damon.

...

Damon is angry, so very, very angry. Klaus wants his brother, does he? Maybe tonight he'll actually convince his perpetually underage brother to finally stake his miserable ass. He blurs through the trees in the eight miles that separate them from the town center of Mystic Falls. He's lost count of the times he's asked Klaus when they can leave this place behind, though the only real reason he asked was so that he could better put a time limit on Elena's escape. Perhaps Klaus knew his reasons all along, and that's why the evil asshole wouldn't ever give him a straight answer.  
Damon is hungry. So hungry and so damn tired. He hasn't feed in exactly two hundred and eight hours. (Not that he's counting.) He's sure Stefan is stronger than him by now, especially if he pushes his vampiric speed to the maximum he can stand, that's even less strength he'll have left by the time he reaches Stefan.  
He tries to buy himself as much time as he can, checking the local haunts he's sure Stefan won't be at. The Grill, though void of his brother, houses Alaric, and he takes pause there to watch his friend. He allows himself a single moment to wish fervently to sit down beside him, as he used to, before he adds another layer to his mask and flits back off into the night. The Lockwood house is empty and so is the Forbes residence. He doesn't check Bonnie's or the Gilbert house. He even passes around the quarry, because he's running out of places he can visit before he has no further loopholes to Klaus's order.  
Finally, the Boarding House looms in his line of sight. He hopes Stefan had the good sense to not be there tonight.  
He slams the front door open, yelling, "Stefan! You better not be home." His tone is dark and bitter and wrathful. He listens with every ounce of vampire-strength hearing he has left. _Damnit,_ he thinks, just before-  
A responding yell of "Damon?!" and running footsteps on the stairs greet him. Stefan reaches the bottom in record time, gazing at his brother with awe in his eyes. "How-how are you here? Where's El-"  
"Listen closely," he snaps, taking slow but purposeful steps toward his younger brother. "Klaus sent me to collect you. As you know, I have no damn choice. But you, Stefan, you can stop me. He only said I had to bring you to him. He said nothing about what happens if you manage to wipe the floor with my ass and then get something sharp and wooden to finish the job."  
Stefan, at least, has the good sense to move toward the other room and put more distance between them. "I'm not killing you, you idiot."  
Damon chuckles darkly. "How about if I ask you nicely?"  
"Damon, this isn't a joke. Where's Elena?"  
"Hopefully a few miles outside of town right now."  
"What? What did you do?" Hope lights up his face in his smile.  
"I gave her some vervain. Anti-Klaus texted to inform me he needed a good meal, was headed out of town to get it, and I had just better be back with you by dawn. So, herein lies our conflict. I cannot go without dragging your ass back with me. I can't stop, Stefan. So do me one last goddamn favor and kill me." He gazes fiercely at his brother. "Kill me, Stefan!"

Stefan's smile evaporates at the look on Damon's face and at his words. "I... I _can't_ ," he murmurs. "But I can chain you up in the basement."  
Damon shrugs, "That'll work for _maybe_ six hours before Klaus comes down here to huff and puff and burn this house to ground to collect you himself."  
"It's a chance I'm willing to take."  
"You better have a damn good plan this time, Stefan."  
Stefan blurs in front of him suddenly, jamming a large syringe into his chest, right into his heart. "Double shot," he mutters as he forces down the plunger, and the vervain is forced out.  
"That'll... do." Damon groans as pain washes over him and his knees give out. Sweet, sweet darkness clots his vision. _Finally_.

...

If Klaus wonders why Damon didn't bother to reply to his threatening text message, he's too lost in the blood high to really read too much into it. He hasn't indulged himself this much in some time, and he intends to enjoy it. Alas, duty calls. Or, rather, one of his hybrids calls; and while they are a superior race, he is sometimes extremely discouraged by their stupidity.  
" _The doppelganger has disappeared_ ," bleeds into his ear. He can discern fear in his hybrid's voice. Which, by all accounts, yes, that moron should be afraid. Klaus's anger ignites.  
"One job. You have one job. Find her. Immediately, or you'll soon find yourself lacking your heart." He's half a second from disconnecting the call, when he barks, "And where is that damn Salvatore? He should've returned by now."  
A stuttered reply is his answer. He should've known. And just like that, his euphoria dissolves into vengeful fury. Someone will pay for this, he decides; it's just a matter of whom he finds first.  
He drops his dinner in a heap on the pavement and stalks back to his car. The expensive, foreign sports car roars to life in the direction of the Salvatore boarding house.

...

As the younger Salvatore carries the unconscious form of his brother to the room in the basement, he considers his next move. He needs to find Elena, before anything else. He feels guilty as he affixes chains to each of Damon's wrists, but he needs Damon to stay put until he can come back for him. Just as he's moving to leave, he catches sight of a daggered Rebekah lying several feet from Damon's still body. _Shit,_ he thinks. He'll have to make one pit stop before searching for Elena. _Just in case._  
He wastes no time jumping in his car and peeling out of the long driveway. He needs to find Elena. Quickly. He presses the speed dial on his cell that he's recently reserved for Bonnie as he slams the Porsche into third gear.  
Bonnie answers on the fourth ring. " _Stefan?_ "  
"Bonnie, I need a tracking spell. Damon helped Elena escape, I have to find her before Klaus does."  
" _I'll try, but his witch may still be cloaking her from me. I'll call Jeremy. You call Ric and Caroline. We may just have to search on foot._ "  
The history teacher is his second call after Bonnie. " _Why am I always the last to know everything? My friend was dying- again- and you didn't think that was something I_ might _want to know?_ " He growls into the phone. He sighs wearily and murmurs, " _Is Damon alright?_ "  
"He will be, Ric. I'll make sure of it. Just, help me find Elena first. I can only imagine what Damon went through to get her free. Klaus will disappear off the face of the earth with her if he finds her this time. We _have_ to find her before he does."  
" _You got it. I'll start the search out by Wickery Bridge. Oh, and Stefan? Bring our boy home, alright?_ "  
Stefan hangs up, dials the others, explains everything in as few words as necessary before he hangs up and tosses his phone into the passenger seat. He's had just enough time to complete his brief stop at the Salvatore crypt by now. He tries desperately to think of anywhere she might go. He doesn't think she would go home as it's not safe, but maybe she might look for Jeremy. Or Bonnie. He grips the steering wheel in one steady hand, yanks it to the left as he pulls the emergency brake with the other. He's headed towards Bonnie's house before he think otherwise.

...

Elena tries to stay inside the tree line as she stumbles along in the dark toward her childhood friend's home. She knows she should continue to Bonnie's house, but Caroline's is closer. Her feet ache, her lungs sting, and her heart pounds. She tries desperately not to think about Damon. She can't, because if she does, even for a moment, she feels more overwhelming guilt than she's perhaps ever felt. She can't imagine how angry Klaus will be when he learns that she's gone. And Damon will be first one he'll take his anger out on.  
There is only one light on in Caroline's house, but Elena thinks she can see the TV's flickering glow through her friend's bedroom window. Pushing herself with all the fading energy she still has left, she jogs to the back door. She knocks four times and counts to twenty-four before she mentally resigns herself to walking the last two miles to Bonnie's. She's headed back to woods lining the street when she hears a familiar engine roaring around the block. She doesn't think about the lack of forethought of her next choice or the odds of finding Stefan this way as she bolts out into the street. She flails her arms as his tires squeal and smoke against the blacktop.  
Stefan jumps from the car in record time. "Are you _out of your mind_?!" He doesn't even bother to give her a chance to reply before he hisses, "Get in the car. You're lucky we've all been so worried about you; I'll spare the lecture about jumping in front of speeding cars."  
As she drops into the passenger seat, and Stefan slams the small car into first gear, then second, and third faster than she thinks is probably good for the engine, she asks, "Where is everyone?"  
"At the witch house," Stefan murmurs. "So Bonnie will be more powerful if Klaus shows up. The witches won't let him in. Damon is at the Boarding house." He feels his guilt return at the way her face lights up. "He didn't escape Klaus, not quite, but I have a plan. Once I'm sure you're safe with Bonnie, I'm going back for him."  
Elena's panic is mounting, "But if Klaus realizes I'm gone, that's the first place he'll go-!"  
"Elena, I know, but you are priority. Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to him, alright?"  
She sighs, but they don't speak much more as they speed along toward the witch house just outside of town. Stefan doesn't wait long after walking Elena inside to turn on his heel back the way he came. As the tires burn out in the damp grass, he briefly wonders how much it'll cost him to rebuild the clutch.  
Gravel flies as he pulls back into the Boarding House driveway. He doesn't bother turning the engine off as he leaps out from behind the wheel. The fact the front door is several yards from its hinges and that there's an unfamiliar car in the driveway alert him to the fact that he wasn't quick enough. "DAMON!" He doesn't bother with stealth now; he's sure Klaus heard his car from the road.  
He's hardly over the threshold when he hears Klaus's lilting baritone. "I should've known it was you, Stefan. How, exactly did you expect this to end, hmm?" Klaus is livid, and Stefan knows he's in for a world of hurt even before the Original is blurring in his direction. He feels at least three ribs snap as he's punched back through the doorway. He is quickly back on his feet, but he realizes that perhaps Klaus hasn't found Damon yet. He needs to distract him.  
Why do you even want him?" Stefan's voice is slightly breathless as his ribs pop painfully back together. Klaus is back on him in a flash. He's contented himself, for the moment, with taking his anger out on Stefan with his fists. The younger vampire is mildly satisfied that he manages a few lucky fistfalls himself. Little good it does him. He finally repeats himself from the floor in foyer, panting heavily from fighting the futile battle against a vampire hybrid several times his age.  
Klaus considers him this time for a long moment, slightly out of breath himself. His eyes flicker with something Stefan can't quite define before it slips back behind the mask of cruel indifference. "He and I are cut from the same cloth, you know." Though Stefan is shaking his head, denying that Damon is anything like him, Klaus continues unperturbed. "Born to fathers who loathed our very existence and mothers who couldn't protect us from them. Then forced into an existence we never wanted." Stefan flinches. "Proceeding to destroy everything around us, good or bad, if only feel _something_." Klaus laughs now, bitter and hateful. "Yet you love him anyway. Elena loves him anyway. Katerina, with a selfishness that rivals my own, gave up her one chance to kill me, her sole motivation to save your brother.  
"He's an anomaly, can't you see that, Stefan? A worthless, selfish, destructive, hateful shell of a man who has stolen everything from you over the last century and a half, yet everyone falls over backwards to rescue him at every turn."  
"That's not true," Stefan growls. "That's not who he is anymore!"  
"Which part?" Klaus asks rhetorically, "He's stolen your 'epic' love and committed every evil in the name of her, instead of in the name of his own miserable existence."  
"That's just it, Klaus," Stefan smiles sadly. "You'll never understand him. Because in order to realize exactly what drives Damon's actions, you have to be capable of loving someone more than yourself."  
Klaus's eyes turn black with hate as he bats Stefan back into the house and through the living room in his rage. "I've sacrificed everything for my family, and look how they've repaid me!" He shouts, blurring after Stefan, though whether his ire is directed at Stefan, his family, or himself, neither vampire is entirely sure.  
"You didn't give it all up out of selflessness," Stefan argues from his place on the floor. He knows he's playing with fire now, egging on the deadly Original. For some reason, however, he can't manage to summon up any fear, only a bone-deep weariness that makes him feel every bit his actual age. "You did it so that they'd feel indebted to you. So that they could never leave you. That isn't love, Klaus; that's indentured servitude." He smirks without humor, a drip of blood slipping from the corner of his mouth.  
Klaus doesn't move toward him; instead he moves to the basement steps slowly, the door banging open as Stefan scrambles to his feet and follows. The Original moves slowly, unhurried, down the many stairs and in the locked cellar room door. He comes to stop at Damon's feet. For long seconds, his dark eyes examine Damon's slumped body before him. "Damon, on the other hand?" Stefan murmurs, watching Damon, too. "He laid down his life for Elena, even while believing that she'd never love him in return. He doesn't sacrifice everything for us because he believes we _should_ love him; he does it because he believes he doesn't _deserve_ our love to begin with." Stefan stumbles forward two steps on unsteady feet. "You can take him, Klaus, but I'll never stop coming for him. Erasing him won't erase your pain and hurt. Killing Damon won't make anything right."  
Klaus glares sharply at him, "I'm not going to kill him, you fool. I'm going to _destroy_ him."  
Stefan just looks sad. "Don't do this. It won't change anything."  
Klaus chuckles bitterly. "Not for me, perhaps. But for you? For Damon? It'll change everything. Perhaps now you'll learn to not take each other for granted. Too late, perhaps," he reasons. "But aren't those the greatest lessons we learn? The ones _after_ we've lost everything?"  
"I'll find you. I'll bring him home again."  
"Perhaps. I might even let you. Eventually." Klaus turns and takes menacing steps toward the younger Salvatore. "If I keep him for the next century, or even the next decade, do you think he'll still be the same man who left? Or do think he'll be far more bitter and self-loathing than he's ever been before? How many years- months, even- can pass before the brother you knew is gone entirely? How many acts of horror can he commit before he's the every bit the monster he already believes he is?"  
Stefan sinks back to the floor. "Don't do this to him. Please. Just let him go."  
"Why should I?!" Klaus screams. "What has he done to deserve it?!"  
"Don't hate him just because you hate yourself."  
Klaus blurs beside Damon, rending muscle and flesh as he tears Damon's restraints from him. Stefan watches in agony as Damon's bones snap, and his flesh ruins, though his eyes remain closed and his body slack. "Stop," Stefan pleads, his pride so far gone he can't even muster any of the embarrassment he should feel from his begging. All he can see is Damon's battered and unconscious body.  
"I should kill you," Klaus says conversationally, his face expressionless once again. "But I'm not sure what would hurt Damon more: knowing you're dead or knowing you failed him."  
"Don't do this."  
"Give me Elena. I'll release him."  
Stefan remains silent. Even if he wasn't still in love with her himself, he knows Damon would never forgive him if he traded Elena's life for his. As greatly as his desire is not to allow Klaus to leave with Damon, he can't make that deal.  
"That's what I thought. It doesn't matter, though, you know. Damon will make the perfect bait for my doppelganger. Even greater than you."  
"You're sick," he spits.  
Klaus hums with a cold smile before he and the unconscious Damon slung over his shoulder disappear. They leave Stefan bloody, alone, and defeated.

...

After Elena greets everyone, and they wait for Alaric and her brother to arrive, she gives hugs and reassurances before asking Caroline for a phone charger. Not long after the screen bursts back into life, her phone chirps. She desperately hopes it's Stefan, telling her that he's on his way back with Damon. That they're safe.

It isn't a text from Stefan.

 _You made a deal. You have exactly 12 hours to return to me before your boyfriend is much less of the man you remember. Tick tock, my sweet Elena. I'll so enjoy ripping his heart out, however, should you decide not to heed me._

She drops her phone to the floor as though it's burned her, a dry sob bubbling up through her lips.

 _To be continued..._

 _ **Thank you all so very, very much for the reviews. I absolutely love to read each and every one. I'll try to continue posting new chapters as quickly as I can. :) Though updating on my phone is incredibly tedious and frustrating, so please bare with me. :)**_

 _ **Also, I've been trying to get the chapters to be nice and long, but this takes me longer. Feel free to let me know if you'd prefer shorter chapters with faster updates instead. Until next time...**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Something Wicked 4**_

 _A/N: I make no money off this story. The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me; rights belong to the CW, LJ Smith, Julie Plec, and any other original owners.  
I have no beta, and I wrote this on my phone, so please be forgiving about the minor errors. Please review and enjoy._

 _ **Chapter 4: What We've Become**_

" _I never wanted you to see the darkest part of me. I knew you'd run away. I waited, but you never came. So afraid to be alone; I tried to let you go. Still I find you lost inside the darkest part of me." -Red_

 ** _*Warning: Adult scenes toward the end of the chapter. Rating has been changed to M._**

 _ **Previously**_ _... Klaus hums with a cold smile before he and the unconscious Damon slung over his shoulder disappear. They leave Stefan bloody, alone, and defeated.  
After Elena greets everyone, and they wait for Alaric and her brother to arrive, she gives hugs and reassurances before asking Caroline for a phone charger. Not long after the screen bursts back into life, her phone chirps. She desperately hopes it's Stefan, telling her that he's on his way back with Damon. That they're safe.  
It isn't a text from Stefan.  
_You made a deal. You have exactly 12 hours to return to me before your boyfriend is much less of the man you remember. Tick tock, my sweet Elena. I'll so enjoy ripping his heart out, however, should you decide not to heed me. _  
She drops her phone to the floor as though it's burned her, a dry sob bubbling up through her lips._

Bonnie is still staring at the text on Elena's phone when she sighs heavily, "I know what you are going to try to do, Elena. But first, I need you to just listen to me. Just for a few minutes. Please."

Elena hesitates, but nods. "But I can't wait too long. Klaus _will_ kill him," she murmurs sadly. Stefan has yet to return. Elena is nervous that Klaus may have just staked him for good measure.

"I don't think so," Alaric says softly from the doorway. He looks as though he hasn't slept in a few days. "Why would Klaus even take Damon in the first place? He wants him for something, Elena. I'm sure of it."

Elena's small, sad smile is watery in her tears as she says, "I think I'm the reason," she whispers. "Klaus took him because I… Because I…"

"Love him?" comes Stefan's voice from behind Alaric. The former appears in the doorway beside the history teacher, looking even worse for wear than Ric. "It's alright to say aloud, Elena; we all know it already." He tries to smile slightly, but it's more of a grimace.

Elena nods absently, "Are you alright?"

"Not really," he sighs. Then, amends, "I'll be fine, but," his face crumples, "Klaus took him, Elena. I couldn't-"

Elena offers her phone for Stefan to take. "We know," she says softly. "We don't blame you," she adds at the look on his face.

Alaric is quick to agree, "Seriously. You faced an Original alone. You're lucky to be alive, frankly."

Neither of these sentiments seem to comfort him much as his eyes flick across her phone screen. His frown grows. "Twelve hours is something," he thinks aloud. "That gives us a small window of time to come up with a plan." He begins to pace, and Elena's heart clenches as she's reminded so of his brother. "Elena," he eventually says, "you should text Klaus asking for a meeting location. Don't tell him anything else, though."

She nods, and taps the message out on the phone before turning it over in her hand to let the others approve what she's written. It's a simple message, only takes up a line and a half in the text box. Stefan nods, shrugs slightly, and she hits send. She feels queasy and guilty.

It only takes a moment for the reply to ping in. _The Quarry. Don't be late._

Elena swallows thickly and reads it aloud. "That's better than Wickery Bridge, right?" Matt says quietly.

Elena nods, but gazes toward the door. "Where's Jeremy?" she asks, suddenly wanting to hug him desperately.

"On his way," Bonnie says swiftly, noting that Elena is close to tears again. "He'll be here any minute." Bonnie throws a pointed glance at an uncharacteristically quiet Caroline, trying to encourage some positivity from the blonde. "Stefan," she says quietly as Caroline takes the hint, moves to hug Elena, and begins whispering what she hopes are encouraging words in her ear, "could I talk to you for a moment?"

He nods, and she leads them out into the hall, trying to get out of earshot. Though she knows that with a vampire in the room, she had still better whisper. "There's something you should know," she says quietly. "The poison, from Damon's blood, that I removed days ago. I," she falters for a moment. "I performed a spell, to try to determine its source. And, well," she hands him a scrap of paper with what they both recognize to be a cave drawing.

"But this is-" Stefan exclaims.

"Yes," Bonnie cuts him off in a whisper, tapping her ear and glancing in the direction of the room they've come from. "Hybrid."

"Does that mean…"

"That maybe Klaus didn't just _happen_ to hear about Damon's condition? The perhaps that he was behind the poisoning all along?" Bonnie shrugs. "Would've been convenient for him, don't you think?"

Stefan swears softly, and gazes at the opposite wall, his eyes glazing gently in thought. "Yes," he agrees at last. "Yes, I do think so." He frowns, deeply disturbed by this. How could he have missed that. Of _course_ Klaus had been behind it all along. "He sweeps in with a 'miracle' cure and wins Elena _and_ Damon in one fell swoop." His hand clenches in anger, crumpling the drawing.

Bonnie sighs, "I haven't told Elena yet." Stefan nods absently, and Bonnie isn't sure he's really even listening until she says in a low voice, "There's just one thing I can't quite figure out, however." The vampire looks to her again. "Why? Why did he go to all the trouble?"

Stefan considers this. "Why, indeed," he murmurs.

...

Pain. A world of it. He's fairly certain he hasn't done much to deserve the pain he's currently in, but he can't quite remember where he is or where he was before this. Damon groans aloud and attempts opening his eyes. He understands before he does so that it isn't perhaps the wisest decision he'll ever make. The room tilts and spins in his blurry vision. He recognizes the after-effects of vervain, and if he really tries, he could start counting broken bones. He doesn't get a chance to, however.  
"You're conscious, excellent. Now the real _fun_ can begin."  
"Kindly remind me what I did to piss you off this time?"  
Klaus offers him a wolfish smile. "You? Surprisingly little, all things considered. Though I'm sure I somehow have you to thank for Elena's latest disappearing act."  
"No idea what you're talking about," Damon states without missing a beat. He coughs, his lungs are having some trouble filling with air around the blood that's slowly filling them. "Care to tell me why my organs are rearranged then?"  
"A demonstration, Damon. Honestly, you act as though you have no idea how much pain encourages the cooperation of others."  
Damon spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor between them. "How effective can this demonstration really be when we're alone?" His vision blanks out occasionally, but he is fairly sure no one else is in the room with them.  
"Damon, mate, you're missing the point."  
"Yes, well, that happens sometimes when you have more broken bones than unbroken ones."  
"Right," Klaus chuckles. "I am sorry about that, as I really felt we've grown closer over the past few days. However, I need doppelganger bait, and you happen to be the latest model."  
"Lucky me," Damon deadpans.  
Klaus pulls a particularly long blade from the table behind him. "Our little doppelganger only has three hours left on her time limit. I'm just going to give her a little incentive," he says by way of explanation, and then the long dagger is up to its hilt inside Damon's chest. "This might sting a little." He says lightly as he jerks it to the left.  
A gasp of pain is torn from Damon's lips as blackness floats over his vision. He tries to say something, but it's lost on the blood that bubbles up and out instead. "Smile for the camera now," is the last thing Damon remembers hearing before the pain and everything else vanishes as he plummets into unconsciousness.

...

When Stefan and Bonnie return to the group, some time later, Jeremy is on their heels, eager to see that his sister is alright with his own eyes. Her face lights up when she sees him, and she runs to throw her arms around him. They embrace for a while, and when they finally break apart, both a bit tearful, they all silently decide that it's time now for strategy.  
"What if we bargain Damon for Rebecka?" Elena says first. "Isn't she daggered in the basement?"  
Stefan nods, shrugs, "More or less."  
"I'm thinking unleashing a second pissed-off Original isn't really going to help us all that much," Alaric mutters.  
"What choice do we have?" Stefan asks. "We can't let Elena anywhere near Klaus. He'll take her away faster than any of us can blink."  
Bonnie stares intently into the fire. "I might have a plan to get Damon away from Klaus." She sighs, "I can't guarantee it'll work, though."  
As Bonnie explains the complications of the plan she has half-formed, Elena's phone chirps again. She swallows thickly. "It's probably Klaus," she whispers. "We're running out of time."  
Stefan wordlessly takes her phone, swiping the unlock code and opening the message. The look on his face is more than Elena needs to confirm it is indeed from the Original. He winces and closes his eyes as he turns his head sharply to the left. Ric glances around Stefan's shoulders to see for himself before gasping out a few expletives. Elena takes her phone, but she isn't sure she really wants to read whatever the text says. Both Stefan and Alaric protest, but she can't manage to keep her eyes away. There, in full color HD, is Damon. Only, there's more blood outside of him than there must be in him, and his eyes are dim, his expression slack. Elena swallows at the bile rising up in her throat. "I-I-I have to... I have to go, now." She clicks the screen back to black, and turns for the front door of the safe house. "I can't let Klaus hurt him anymore... Especially not because of me."  
"That's exactly what he wants!" Bonnie exclaims. "You can't just walk back into his trap!"  
"He's going to kill Damon if I don't!" Elena turns back to exclaim. "What else am I supposed to do?!" She takes a few steps toward the front hall. "I can't let him die. I never should've left him there alone."  
"Elena, we all care about Damon, but," Alaric falters. "But think about what will happen to you if you do this. You're 18 years old; you have your entire life ahead of you. Damon has lived for over a century and a half, and I know he would gladly, without any regrets, die so that you can be free."  
A tear slips silently down her cheek, "But what is a life without love?" She whispers, tugging her arms through the sleeves of her coat. It's difficult to tap out a message to Klaus through her tears, but she manages.

 _I'm ready. Please don't hurt him anymore._

 _..._

As Damon's body slackens entirely, Klaus pulls free the knife, and hits send on the text to Elena. His smirk drops from his face. There's something about this vampire bleeding out before him that makes him feel… nostalgic. It irritates him to no end. If he wanted nostalgia, he'd go undagger his insufferable brother, Elijah. Still, he can't help but feel a somewhat kindred spirit in Damon. Perhaps that's why it angers him so to see just exactly the lengths Elena will go to just to save his life. The villain of the story wasn't supposed to fall in love with the heroine. And even if they did, said heroine definitely was not supposed to love them back. Damon, though, he is the exception to the rule, somehow. Klaus intends to figure out exactly why.

When his phone finally vibrates, hours later, the Original Hybrid can't help but smile. It's all just almost _too easy._  
Reentering the room Damon is strung up in, he moves to tap two fingers against Damon's cheek, "Come now, mate," he says, "We've got a date with our doppelganger."  
Damon groans, his eyelids fluttering as he tries desperately to stay in the blissful unconsciousness. He nearly succeeds. He groans again. "Can't you just, I don't know, leave her alone?"  
"It's as though you enjoy being intentionally thick."  
"It's not like she'll run," Damon argues weakly. He knows this is all rather pointless.  
"Like Katerina, you mean," Klaus nods sagely. "Perhaps I've grown bored of this silly, little town."  
Damon coughs. "Imagine that."  
Klaus frowns at him, considering something behind his sharp, hazel eyes. Regardless of what Stefan, Damon, or any member of their rag-tag band of misfits might think of him, Klaus understands Damon and what motivates him because he can see himself reflected in the darker features of the older Salvatore brother. He isn't a fool. He can see the unconditional and non eclipsed love Damon has for Elena. He recognizes it because the same unending affection once flickered in his own eyes, so very long ago. He knows the other man will go to any lengths to protect both Elena and his brother. So, it with some ease and confidence that the words fall from his lips, binding Damon to his will. "Tonight, during the exchange, you will not speak directly to Elena or Stefan, not one single word. If Stefan doesn't try anything stupid, he might just live through this. I've been remarkably patient and merciful with you all for some time now. My patience is wearing thin."

Klaus nods, satisfied, as Damon sags against his bonds again, the fight fading slightly from his tired eyes. It's in that moment that Klaus realizes the vampire is looking alarmingly grey. He sighs, "Well, this just won't do, will it?" He bites swiftly into his wrist and forcing it to Damon's mouth. "Drink your fill, mate. You aren't looking so fantastic. But be quick about it, will you? We're in a bit of a hurry."

Damon isn't sure he could've refused, even if Klaus hadn't given him a direct order. Certain he was only a few minutes from passing out again, his hunger urges him to drink deeply. The veins underneath his eyes slither to life, his irises darken and become surrounded in red. He gives a throaty moan against his will. He was so damn hungry. Klaus pulls his wrist away before Damon lets it go, causing a stream of blood to drip down his chin. He smirks humorlessly, showing off one fang as he does so.

"On your feet," Klaus growls, releasing the vervain ropes holding Damon. "Wouldn't want to miss our late-night date with the fair Miss Elena now, would we?"

...  
Damon rides shotgun on the drive to the quarry. Though he's full of Klaus's blood and his wounds have all healed completely, he feels worse than he did previously. Knowing Elena, all his efforts for her escape will have been entirely for naught. He can only hope that between the witch and his brother, someone will stop her from handing herself back over to Klaus. Though, he admits silently to himself, Elena is too noble and self-sacrificing to let anyone else be harmed by Klaus if she can prevent it.

Their car trip is fulfilled in silence; Damon is too preoccupied with trying to create a plan to keep Elena safe to pay much attention to the smug satisfaction that oozes out of the Hybrid to his left. As they pull to a stop thirty feet from the water's edge, Damon watches the darkness intently. Either they're early, or Stefan managed to stop Elena from making this mistake. Klaus climbs from the car without a word, and Damon follows suit, equally quiet. Though he appears relaxed as he leans back against the flawless, black paint-job, crossing one ankle over the other, Damon's anxiety ramps up a notch when his sensitive ears pick up light, though hurried, footfalls in the wooded area on the opposite side of the water.

"It sounds as though our guest of honor is approaching," Klaus says lightly with a wicked smile.

Damon shrugs, doing his level best to seem uninterested. Inwardly, he's still hoping for a miracle via Saint Stefan. "Not if she's smart," he says off handedly. Klaus shoots him a look that clearly states he ought to cease talking, but then again, Damon never really enjoyed following the rules. "Maybe she pulled a Katherine and ran for the hills."

"Let's hope your sake she made the wiser choice."

Damon hums indifferently. Frankly, running as fast and as far as possible probably _is_ the wisest choice Elena could make, for her sake at least. His opinion doesn't seem to matter much, however, for at that moment, a figure emerges from the treeline. Damon's hope flickers out. He could recognize her anywhere, and he is certain it is Elena that stands a hundred yards from them now.

She does her best to be brave, not to allow her heart to thunder in her ears. Seeing Klaus again, however, with Damon looking whole and healthy nearby him, causes her pulse to jump and quicken. Perhaps she was wrong, and the Original never actually meant to kill Damon at all. Maybe it really _was_ all a trap for her excessively guilty tendencies. She sighs, still relieved that Damon is alright, despite the fact that he clearly wasn't whenever that awful picture was taken. She tries not to think about it, which proves difficult as it's burned into the back of her eyelids. "Klaus," she says. "I'm here. You'll let Damon go?"

Klaus chuckles, "That was never the deal, my dear doppelganger. He's alive, and that's all I ever promised you."

She frowns. It'll have to do. For now. "Fine," she agrees with some anger coloring her tone. "At least promise me you'll leave everyone else I care about alone."

"All in good time," he says, the smile yet to slip from his lips.

She takes a few steps toward them when suddenly, someone strong grabs her from behind. She's just about to scream, when she recognizes Stefan's voice. "Not so fast, Klaus. I've got a new deal for you." Before Elena or anyone else can speak, he's torn open his wrist and forced it to Elena's mouth. "Drink," he breathes in her ear. "Please. Trust me." When she swallows twice, he looks up at Klaus again. "If you'd like to make any more hybrids, I'd recommend releasing Damon."

Stefan's brother has gotten to his feet from where he had been casually leaning, suddenly alert and smirking. Perhaps he shouldn't have lost faith in his brother so soon, after all. Klaus, however, is no longer smiling. His face has contorted in rage. "This is very unwise," Klaus tells Stefan, the only warning he's willing to give.

Stefan shakes his head, "I'll even sweeten the deal. I'll tell you where Rebekah's daggered."

This sets off the Original. He roars in anger, suddenly gripping the collar of Damon's expensive shirt. "Where's my sister? Do _not_ lie to me, Salvatore."

Damon smiles, "She _was_ in the basement room of the Boarding House, but I'm positive my brother moved her somewhere I don't know about."

Klaus grips his shirt tighter, tearing holes in the fabric where his claws are. He looks back across the clearing, "Tell me where she is, Stefan!"

"Not until you let Damon free of your bond."

Klaus laughs now, humorless and hateful. "Doesn't work that way, mate. There isn't a cure for the loyalty Damon feels for me. Unless, of course, you count a stake." He pulls just such an item from his inner coat pocket. "I have eternity to search for Bekah, you have exactly two seconds to tell me where she is before I end your brother's bond with me for good." He poises the sharpened wood against the fabric covering Damon's chest.  
Klaus smiles widely, turning to Damon, "Are there any last words you wish to say to Stefan?"  
Damon closes his eyes, his head tilting to one side slightly, "No," he sighs in defeat, because there most certainly _is_. However, Klaus's will denies him the ability to speak directly to his brother.  
"Damon!" Stefan cries, watching his brother closely, his arms tightening around Elena. "If you kill him, I'll drop her body into the Atlantic after I turn Elena."  
Damon smirks, addresses the Original instead. "Klaus," he says, the snark returning to his tone slightly. "Clearly, we're at an impasse. Unless you want a second vampire doppelganger, this is pointless."  
Klaus pretends to ponder this for all of four seconds before he gives up on the stake altogether and he shoves his hand into Damon's chest instead. "Or, perhaps, I'll get straight to the point, as apparently I've been unsuccessful in making myself clear." Curling his fingers around Damon's heart, and drawing an agonized groan from him, Klaus flicks his head back in Stefan's direction. "You can keep the girl, mate, and my sister's whereabouts, or your brother can keep his heart. Your choice."  
"Do... it," Damon gasps. "Do it, Klaus!" He tries not to breathe anymore than absolutely necessary to speak as the movement of his chest rising and falling sparks agony where Klaus's hand is buried. "I'll call your... bluff, even if... Stefan won't."  
The Original laughs, "You think I won't kill you right here?"  
Damon shakes his head defiantly, gasping out, "No more leverage." Still, despite all his bravado, he flinches violently when Klaus clenches his heart painfully.

A cry falls from Damon's lips, just before Elena screams, "No! Stefan, let me go! Damon!" She's fighting against Stefan's somewhat slackened hold on her, her movements panicked and rather ineffectual.  
"One move," Klaus hisses. "And you're dead."  
Damon can't draw a breath anymore, but he hopes his eyes tell Klaus what he can't. _Go ahead._ He's lost it all already. Klaus doesn't get the chance, however, whether he understood Damon's unspoken meaning or not. Stefan has released Elena. She's stumbling toward them, ever closer to her cruel fate. Damon can't allow this.  
He knows precisely what he must do now. He meets his brother's eyes with resolution, nods to him, just before he places both of his hands against Klaus's chest. He shoves off, tearing Klaus's hand from his chest before anyone can speak. He slumps backward, landing particularly hard as the world greys out and fades all around him. He can hear Klaus's laughter, Stefan's rage, Elena's sorrow. None of it matters anymore, not to him. If he's saved Elena from a fate so alike his own, he can die happy and without many regrets. He allows the darkness to overtake him, not that he ever had much choice in the matter.  
Elena is screaming, running toward Damon's body, which has slumped backwards, one of his hands falling outstretched in her direction, almost reaching for her. Stefan recovers faster than she does, however. He's pulling her backwards, his body shaking as much as Elena's is. Klaus is still laughing. "So dramatic, that one," he says, seeming to be in a better mood suddenly. "He could give Elijah a run for his money with that. Noble sacrifice, indeed." He laughs again. "It was a good effort; I believe we can all agree on that." He leaves Damon where he is, approaching the other two at a casual pace. "You may join us, as well, you know," Klaus murmurs to Stefan after many quiet moments.  
Stefan's watery eyes are watching Klaus carefully. It's then that he notices what both he and Elena had originally missed. Klaus's hand is bloody and dripping, but it's empty of Damon's heart. "You didn't kill him," he breathes.  
"Of course not," Klaus scoffs. "Why would I, when there're much less wasteful ways to get Elena to come along?" He sighs, put upon. "Now, where is Rebekah?"

"If you take Damon and Elena, you'll never know."

Klaus nods, humoring Stefan for the moment. "Well," he replies, "Unfortunately for both you and my sister, Elena is more valuable to me at the moment."

Stefan is losing his upper-hand. He's running out of aces in the hole. He grips Elena tighter. Bonnie needs to hurry, though with Damon lying unconscious across the clearing, he fears her plan won't work at all. "Why must you take her away from her family, her friends, the only life she's ever known? I'm sure she would agree to make monthly donations if you'd let her live her life."

Klaus tuts. "You and your little friends aren't capable of providing her the protection I require. Until she carries on her bloodline, she's far too important to leave unprotected. This strange, little town is a danger magnet. No, she needs to stay with me where I can ensure her longevity."

Elena shakes her head, but Stefan speaks before she can, "Do you even _hear_ yourself? She's a person, a _human being_."

"She's also the only living, breathing doppelganger, the last descendant in her bloodline, and the sole source of my ability to create more hybrids."

"If you want me so badly," Elena finally whispers, "then let Damon go free."

Klaus laughs. "We wouldn't want you to be lonely, would we? Besides, Damon is the best bodyguard for you that I could possibly ask for. Not only is he compelled to be completely loyal to me, he's also unfailingly loyal to _you_. So you see, he's an excellent asset."

Disgusted, Stefan moves them backward. "How can you _be_ this way?"

"Surely you weren't always so hateful," Elena adds in a whisper.

"True," Klaus concedes, "However, that's a tale for another day. Come, now. Both of you, if you wish." He gazes into Stefan's eyes, "We were friends once, were we not?"  
When Stefan says nothing, Klaus blurs to him, snapping his neck before he can lift his hands from Elena to defend himself. As the light dims from his eyes and he falls backward unhindered, Klaus smiles at Elena. "It didn't have to be this, you know," he tells her, offering her the crook of his arm. She doesn't take the proffered show of gentlemanly chivalry. Instead, she squares her shoulders and walks smoothly toward where Damon is lying still on the dead grass.

Klaus follows with a frown, leaving Stefan alone. If he senses the quiet heartbeat in the trees behind them, he doesn't react. Lifting Damon effortlessly and tossing him unceremoniously into the back seat before Elena climbs into the passenger seat, Klaus glances back at Stefan's prone form for a long moment before settling into his own seat and peeling away.

Bonnie holds her breath until the tail lights fade away. She rushes toward Stefan, pressing the opening to a water bottle of animal blood to his lips. "Wake up," she whispers.

Finally, Stefan comes around, coughing slightly and rubbing at his neck. "I thought you had a plan?" he asks her bitterly.

"I did, but Damon was incapacitated before I had a good opportunity. It doesn't matter, because he touched you, didn't he?"

"Klaus?"

Bonnie nods. "That's what I needed. We'll get her back, Stefan. And we'll take Klaus down, too." She smiles determinedly. "It's time we show him what we're all made of."

Stefan grins weakly in the darkness. "I just hope we aren't too late."

...

Upon their return, Elena quickly retreats to her room, slamming the door and curling up on the bed as sobs rack her body. She grieves for the life she will never have, for Stefan, for Damon, for Jeremy, for her friends, for herself. She's worn herself out from her tears by the time there's a gentle knock against her door. Hoping it is Damon, come to hold her and wipe away her tears, she moves to the door. It isn't the man she loves.

Klaus stands, a small smile tilting up his lips. "Miss Elena," he greets. "May I come in? I've missed you."

She frowns in disappointment, moving back to sit on the bed. "Where's Damon?" she asks.

"Sleeping off his foolishness," Klaus chuckles. "I can see why you enjoy him so much. He certainly keeps things interesting where you're concerned, doesn't he?"

Elena's frown deepens. "I love him," she breathes.

Klaus rolls his eyes. "Obviously, I'm already aware of that detail. How would I have known to exploit him, otherwise?"

Klaus sits down beside her, memorizes the contours of her face, though he has seen the exact face on several others before her. He brushes his fingers lightly over Elena's cheek. "So beautiful," he whispers. "I'm not wholly the monster you like to believe I am. Katerina loved me once, you know."  
Elena grips his wrist to pull it away from her face. "I'm not as naïve as Katherine was back then. You don't fool me, Klaus. I'm here because you forced me to be. Don't forget that."  
His eyes alight with anger. "You know what is worse than losing the one you love, you insolent child?" Elena swallows, but rising to her feet, stands her ground, and refuses to speak. "No? Allow me to _show_ you." He grips her arm harshly, dragging her down several hallways before he opens a door she doesn't recognize. He tosses her over the threshold, leaving her to stumble to retain her balance. "You will suffer as greatly as I did once, I think," he growls as he slams the door between them.  
She hears the tumblers of the lock in the door swing forward, then she is left in silence. Her heart is pounding, but she looks around the small room, confused by what Klaus can possibly have in mind for her. The room is long but scarcely wider than a walk-in closet, with one, dim overhead light. Along one longer wall is a large window, or what appears to be a window at first glance. However, when she moves to examine it, she realizes it isn't really a window at all. It's a thick, slightly tinted piece of glass that affords her a view into what must be the room adjacent to the one she's currently in. It, too, is sparsely decorated, with little else but a large bed situated in the middle.  
She doesn't have long to ponder what this means for her, when the door to the other room is opened and a woman walks in. The dark-haired woman is speaking to someone Elena can't quite see through the doorway. Elena can't hear very much of their conversation, but she is able to catch Klaus's unmistakable voice saying one word to the woman: " _Undress_." Then, the door slams again, leaving the woman to do as she told. Elena looks away then, her stomach plummeting.  
…

A sharp rapping against his heavy bedroom door rouses Damon. He winces, pressing a hand to his aching forehead before cracking an eye open as the door swings wide to afford entry to whomever stands on the other side. Unluckily for him, it's Klaus standing in doorway, looking particularly furious. Damon closes his eyes again, momentarily imagining he is absolutely anywhere else. "What is it now, O' Evil One?"

"Get up," Klaus snaps.

Damon does, as he has little choice. "Why so grumpy, hmm?"

"You'd do well to keep that infuriating mouth of yours closed. Come with me."  
Klaus leads him to a room at the end of the hall opposite the one leading to Damon's room. It is dark, and though Damon is inwardly concerned, he can't help but numbly notice the cliché of it all. When Klaus stops, Damon resolutely refuses to meet his eyes. The Original is unfazed by this. "Her name is Maggie," he says to Damon, with an air of one discussing the weather. "You're going to fuck her until you forget all about my little doppelganger. You'll vent all of your pent up anger and frustration on Maggie until I say you may stop. And don't worry, she's quite the professional."  
It takes Damon several bitter swallows before he trusts himself to speak. "You expect me to forget about Elena-" her name physically pains him to speak aloud, "-by screwing a prostitute?"  
Klaus scoffs, "Of course not. I expect Elena to forget about _you_ while she _watches_."  
Damon closes his eyes, and tries to remember the last time he's had to fight this hard to keep from sobbing or screaming or maybe both at once. "I want something in return," he breathes, though he knows the evil monster to his left can hear him just fine.  
"It's good to want things, Damon," Klaus chuckles. "But, very well, I'll consider your request."  
"If I-" He gulps in air he hasn't needed in over a century. "If I... do this," he falters. "I want you to compel her out of love with me," he ends in barely a whisper, his eyes lost somewhere far away.

Klaus watches the other man sharply, his ire momentarily forgotten. Something passes silently between them for long moments. "It won't help," he says, equally quiet and slightly wistful.

Damon's gaze snaps back to Klaus's. "She can never be safe while she's in love with me."

"Perhaps. The hole it will leave behind, however, will always remain."

Damon's eyes search the Original's expression carefully before he says, "You know what this," he gestures to the door, "will do to her. To me," his façade slips slightly. "Please," he breathes; he doesn't trust his voice enough to speak any louder.

Klaus nods, "As you wish," he murmurs, and the moment between them evaporates as he opens the door to the room. He extends his arm toward the room, leaving Damon with little else aside from his anguish and regret as he slowly walks toward his fate.  
The woman who sits on the bed, quiet and still, is beautiful; even Damon can admit that. She has short, dark hair and large, pale eyes. Perhaps in the years before he met Elena, he might've enjoyed this. Now, however, all he feels is contrition and bitterness. He appraises her absently, his dull eyes gazing over the contours of her thin body. She is unabashedly nude. She is human, as he can hear the calm, steady beating of her heart. If he looks hard enough, he can also find traces of tiny scars littering her pale flesh. Puncture wounds that were, perhaps, too deep to heal properly.  
The dark-haired vampire swallows tightly, deft fingers soundlessly undoing the buttons of his black shirt, then the zipper of his dark jeans. His heart is heavy, and he tries, not for the first time this week, to turn his humanity off. Just like every other time, however, Klaus's laughing voice rings his ears, _"He can't."_ He sighs as his clothing falls away. He's never been ashamed of his body, not even exposed as he is, but the mirror to his right, the one that fills nearly the entire wall, gives him pause. In the end, though, Klaus has left him with no options, and, he thinks sourly, if Kings in the 16th century could do it, he figures he can fuck with an audience, too. If only it wasn't made up of the woman he loves most and the monster who's ruined anything good about his life.  
He approaches the woman, Maggie, and she finally looks up at him. She offers him no smile, but there isn't any hostility, fear, or sadness in her expression either. It's completely neutral, and he wonders if she's been compelled by Klaus to put forth no fight. He shoves lightly at her shoulder until she lies on her back before him. "Turn over," he murmurs. He has to do this; he doesn't have to see her face while he does. She obliges his request with no qualms, she even goes so far as to tilt her backside up in his direction.  
Damon closes his eyes, steels what's left of his frayed nerves, and breathes, "I'm sorry," as he plunges into her. He isn't gentle, doubts he could be even if Klaus's order didn't forbid it. If he's anything less than harsh and quick, his mind wanders to that reflective pane of glass in the corner of his eyes; where, if he isn't very careful, he's fairly certain he can hear sobbing.  
They don't finish together; Maggie is panting and writhing through her third orgasm by the time Damon realizes Klaus isn't going to show him any mercy. He's going to force Damon to thoroughly subject himself to this. The Original isn't going to give up until Damon gives in. With those defeated thoughts, Damon leans down and sinks his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder. She moans and whimpers. He can't drink any of the blood that bursts forth, but he can let the sharp, rich flavor roll across his tongue. He rights himself, blood dripping down his chin, and continues his onslaught, this time more desperate. He isn't supposed to enjoy this; he isn't supposed to give in to it. He doesn't have a choice, however, if he ever wants this to end. He tries to imagine it's Elena that he's leaning over, but he can't. The woman bent on all fours in front of him is not enough like his Elena. Perhaps that's why Klaus chose her. She doesn't feel the same in Damon's hands that currently grip either side of her hips. She's all sharp edges and dark passion, moaning and squirming beneath him in ways he could've once found delicious.  
He stops breathing as he feels the inevitable release quickly building. The taste of her blood has pushed him nearly over the edge already. He groans aloud when he finally surrenders. The release washes over him in waves, and his muscles tremble slightly as he thrusts deeply one last time. Against his will, the euphoria immediately following his orgasm momentarily clouds his thoughts and leaves him blissfully less aware of the entire implications of the last hour.  
It doesn't last. The moment he slumps forward, panting slightly, and he looks over his bed mate collapsed beside him, the world rights itself. His momentary high flees faster than he can blink, and dread fills him like lead. He closes his eyes as he tries to gather the willpower required to find his pants. He yearns to crawl into a bottle bourbon and stay there for eternity. Thinks he just might.

...

Klaus turns from the two way mirror to look at Elena. Though the anguish on her face evokes several emotions he doesn't care to identify, smug satisfaction is the one he focuses on. "There, you see how easily I've swayed him, Elena? Perhaps he never deserved your sacrifice at all." He turns on his heel without another word, leaving her to cry alone in the silent room.

Elena rips her eyes away from Damon, turning to run back to her own room before anyone can stop her. The painted colors of the walls swirling around her as she flees, heartbroken and anguished.

...

Klaus flicks open the door of Damon's would-be prison. The Original appraises them for a moment, before ordering, "Again." Then closing the door with a snap.

Damon has to try incredibly hard not to heave all over the plush carpet before moving to do as commanded. As he's fairly certain she's enjoying this far more than he is, he doesn't even bother apologizing this time.

...

When he's entirely spent and permitted to return to his own room, Damon discovers the bourbon doesn't help; there's not enough in this entire town to drown his sorrows this night. He's forsaken a crystal tumbler in favor of the bottle; though, admittedly, this is his second. Damon's coming unglued. He can feel the cracks and crumbles in his façade growing. He can't face Elena; he always was a coward, he thinks. He takes another long, heady pull from the bottle until it's very nearly empty. With an almighty howl of anguish, he hurls the thing, end over end, into the orange flames flickering in the fireplace. They burst into bright shades of blue as they burn through the alcohol remnants.  
Though he isn't wholly surprised when Klaus shrugs casually into the room, he is enraged. "Get out," he says darkly, his eyes never leaving the flames.  
"Is that any way to greet me, Damon?"  
"Get. Out." He bites out, slightly louder this time.  
The Hybrid Original laughs, clicks his tongue. "I'm wounded, mate."  
Damon whirls on him now, "What more can you _possibly_ want from me?!" His fingers fumble for the closest object they can find. They curl around an expensive, antique vase on the end table beside him.  
"You're the one yelling," Klaus says off-handedly. "I'm here because I need you to do something for me."  
"Haven't I done enough?" Damon shouts, his voice cracking as he flings the vase at Klaus's head. "Fuck you, Klaus!" His voice is tight and brittle.  
Klaus sidesteps the projectile porcelain with a frown as it shatters on the wall behind him. "You're a bit old for temper tantrums, aren't you, Damon?" He growls into irritation.  
"Aren't you a little old for _compelling playthings for your own twisted entertainment?_ " Damon returns, half hoping Klaus will run him through with a stake.  
Klaus stalks closer to him, but Damon doesn't bother moving. "You both needed to be taught a lesson. Keep it up, Damon. Go ahead," he dares. "I'll think up something better to correct your poor manners next time." He moves forward until he's all Damon can see. "Try me, mate. We have eternity, after all."  
Damon sneers, "You've already ruined me," he hisses.  
"Not even remotely," Klaus chuckles. "Evil isn't born, Damon, remember that. I've seen more in my exceedingly long life than you can possibly imagine. Don't think for a moment you can fully understand the torment that awaits you."  
Perhaps foolishly, Damon suddenly asks, "What's the point? So I can be as much of a monster as you are?" He reaches for the last full bottle of alcohol on the mantle, single malt this time. "So you can see yourself without having to look in the mirror?" He takes a healthy swallow.  
Klaus laughs. "Perhaps it's because we both know you don't deserve her." He lifts the bottle from Damon's slackened hand, drinking deeply.  
He gazes at Klaus for a long time, before he breathes, "Say that again." Klaus eyes him carefully, but doesn't speak. "You... This is about Elena. You-you think…" He tries to breathe through the fury that this realization sparks. "She doesn't love you, like the other doppelgangers, does she?" It isn't really a question. Damon can see the exact moment some emotion flickers in the other's eyes. He takes a step toward Klaus, once again leaving them nose to nose. "That's it, isn't it? She doesn't love you, so you figure, you'll just destroy all that she _does_ love?" Damon laughs without humor at Klaus's silence, bitter and hateful. "You'd think you'd've learned something in over a thousand years." The darker-haired vampire pulls the half-empty bottle back. He swirls it between his fingers before he drinks. He swallows as he savors the burn, then, "You're a fool."  
Klaus is livid, but quiet as he says, "I wouldn't say such things, mate."  
Damon frowns, leans forward, and whispers, "You don't deserve her either, you sick fuck. _She will never love you._ " Damon sees the light of rage alight in Klaus's eyes just before everything painfully goes black.

 _To be continued…_

 _ **A/N:**_ _I've moved the rating up to 'M' in light of this chapter. Thank you all, again, for all the reviews. I look forward to them daily. I received reviews with a request for more focus and insight into Klaus and his plans; I hope this chapter delivered; more to come with him. Don't worry; the OCs I occasionally utilize will not, in any way, be large parts of the story. They are just there briefly to fill a necessary role._

 _I will leave the long chapters for now, but you may have to be a bit more patient with me as far as update frequency goes. I will be leaving on a trip this week, but I'll still try to update with, hopefully, weekly frequency. I hope you all enjoyed. Don't hesitate to let me know. :) Until next time..._


	5. Chapter 5

Something Wicked 5

 _ **A/N**_ _: I make no money off this story. The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me; rights belong to the CW, LJ Smith, Julie Plec, and any other original owners.  
I have no beta, and I wrote this on my phone, so please be forgiving about the minor errors. Please review and enjoy._

 _ **Chapter 5: What Once Was**_

 _"Nothing left but a broken man, terrified of everything. Nothing left of his foolish pride, his fond memories slowly die, then. As he wakes again alone, still a prisoner in his home, ready to allow the dark to penetrate his broken heart." -Disturbed_

 _"That's it, isn't it? [Elena] doesn't love you, so you figure, you'll just destroy all that she does love?" Damon laughs without humor at Klaus's silence, bitter and hateful. "You'd think you'd've learned something in over a thousand years." The darker-haired vampire pulls the half-empty liquor bottle back. He swirls it between his fingers before he drinks. He swallows, savors the burn, then, "You're a fool."  
Klaus is livid but quiet as he says, "I wouldn't say such things, mate."  
Damon frowns, leans forward, and whispers, "You don't deserve her either, you sick fuck. _She will never love you _." Damon sees the light of rage alight in Klaus's eyes just before everything painfully goes black._

Elena lays flat in her back, her mind absently tracing random patterns in the ceiling texture. She tries not to blink, for every time she does, all she can see is Damon's face as he had sex with that woman. She isn't sure which moment of it hurt her most. She isn't sure which emotion to focus on in the deep whirlpool of her thoughts. She should be angry at Damon, she reasons. For all the love he claims to have for her, he couldn't fight for her in that moment. However, her ire has fled. She could see in his face the way it wounded him more to do it, she thinks, than it hurt her to watch it.

She thinks this is what Klaus wanted; to hurt her by hurting Damon. She can't let him win, she thinks silently. She needs to see Damon, hold him, reassure him that she doesn't blame him. She needs to remind Damon that she loves him.

Elena stumbles quietly down the hallway towards Damon's room. Before she reaches the end of the hallway, she can hear raised voices. Tiptoeing up to Damon's doorway, she watches, listens, silently. She can barely bite back a gasp as she flattens herself against the wall of the hallway the moment she sees Klaus snap Damon's spine. She breathes slowly, quietly, as she creeps back to an empty room two doors down. She holds her breath just behind the threshold as she listens to Klaus's furious footsteps echo away.

The moment she dares to brave her way back to Damon's room, she can't help but run. When she sees him laying in a heap on the floor, she can't help but feel a swell of fondness for the brash, outspoken vampire. His mouth has, once again, gotten him nothing but trouble. She kneels beside him, brushing stray hairs off his pale forehead. His eyes are open slightly but unfocused, his face is ashen and slack. She whispers his name as she curls herself around his prone form and waits for consciousness to find him once again.

…

Damon has had his neck broken more times than he strictly cares to remember, and the experience is always the same. Until now. It is typically akin to a dark, timeless, dreamless sleep. So when his awareness kicks in, and he finds himself standing in an unfamiliar room with unfamiliar memories that are suddenly clear, he isn't sure what exactly to make of it. One half of his brain is entirely certain this is a dream, the other half, however, is convinced this is his reality. The film reel playing before his eyes is just to the left of too vivid to be a dream, but not _quite_ in the sharp color and definition he's accustomed.

 _It's been forty-seven hundred and forty five days since he lost everything. He lost the girl he loved, even though he's had a front row seat all the while. He lost his brother, even though he sacrificed everything so that his brother could live. He lost his home, even though he thinks perhaps he always took it for granted anyway. He lost himself, even though he still isn't certain he ever really had the chance to find himself in the first place.  
Damon has spent over thirteen years beside Klaus. He has watched Elena birth three children, all girls with dark hair and chocolate eyes. She loves them; they are all she lives for anymore. He thinks perhaps she's forgotten he even exists after all these years. Klaus forbids him to ever be seen by her, though he is allowed to watch her whenever he likes. How fucked is that?  
And watched, he has. He tried not to; he tried so damn hard. At first, Klaus was the only one allowed to be with her. Watching her, with Klaus, that way... Sometimes he's amazed he didn't gouge out his own eyes... or his ears. Slowly, however, Klaus decided the doppelganger line needed to be continued. Elena was pregnant within a year, but it was her cries for Damon at night that finally broke him completely. -_Damon- _He can still hear the sound of her voice perfectly in his mind. Her third child was an accident. Not an accident, Damon thinks, correcting himself; a terrifying danger, with doe eyes and pigtails. He's not even certain Elena even knows the truth, but he does. Elena's third child is Klaus's._

 _Her name is Emma. Damon wonders if this is, somehow, alluding to the late Emily Bennett. Wonders if Elena can feel the magic in the child as he can, even through thick walls and tinted panes of glass. -_ Damon!- _He isn't entirely sure what this child will be. A mix of, impossibly, a werewolf, a witch, and a doppelganger. The next Klaus in the making, or perhaps something more. He isn't permitted to see the children, not that he thinks he would, but the youngest- Emma, when he stands behind the two way mirror to glimpse his beautiful Elena, he is endlessly unnerved to find the girl gazing directly at him. He wonders what-_ DAMON! Wake-

 _Something is changing. The girl is speaking to him, but her image is distorted and blurry. He strains to hear her murmur, "You must save her, Damon Salvatore. The demon, turned savior. You must stop this, or the nightmarish hell you find yourself in shall be your penance for all time. Save her, vampire." The world upends and smears. Where there had been no pain and relatively fluid awareness, suddenly a slightly painful sensation in his head has begun to pick up. The world around him is changing, tilting and melding. The colors swirl in a too-bright whirlwind, and he can hear someone calling his name, more desperately than before._ -Damon!- _Then-_

 _Damon's eyes shoot open as he jumps from bed with a shout, his body drenched in cold sweat. He feels cold; goose flesh rises over his skin. His hair stands on end, his breathing stuttered and shallow.  
"You can't let that happen, Damon," he jumps again, startled, whirls to look behind him to the other dark corner of his bed chamber. "If that all comes to be it will be on your head. You must save her, Damon. Don't let Elena down; it will haunt you to your miserable end."  
"Bonnie? What's going-"  
"Don't let us down, Damon. You know what you must do."_

 _Suddenly, agony unlike anything he's felt before alights across every nerve ending and synapse in his body. He cries out, arching his back to evade the pain. The darkness is closing in around him, sharp and suffocating. He thinks someone is screaming at him, but he can't understand what's happening. He knows he doesn't have to breathe, but then why does it feel as though his lungs are collapsing?_  
...

Elena is shaking Damon, calling his name, frantically by now. His eyes have opened more fully, but they're rolled completely back into his head, the whites vividly showing. She's terrified. She's never seen him like this, his muscles are taut and every so often, a moan of her name drops from his lips. "Damon," she calls, as loud as she dares, lest Klaus return. "Please. Wake up, please!"

He doesn't seem to hear her, but eventually, his eyes close and his muscles slacken again. He goes completely still in a way that is a bit too much like death. For a moment, she holds her breath, but when no grey veins spread across his skin, she tries again to rouse him.

Finally, those crystalline blue eyes she loves so dearly flicker open, and he sighs gently, as though a great pain has been relieved. "Elena," he whispers reverently, lifting a hand slowly, tenderly, to graze her cheek. It only lasts a moment before his arm drops back to his side as though it was impossibly heavy.

"Are you alright?" she asks, stroking two fingers down the length of his face. He's incredibly pale, and still he breathes slightly stuttered and troubled.

"Yes," he replies, not taking his eyes from her. His voice is a bit breathless. "I am now."

"What happened? I saw Klaus…"

"I... " He frowns. "I don't remember." His eyelids drift closed as he sighs again. "I was just dreaming," he breathes with a slight smile.

"You weren't dreaming, Damon," Elena sounds worried. "Klaus snapped your spine. You were, temporarily, dead."

"But you were…" he frowns, his eyes remaining closed. "Doesn't matter. You shouldn't be here, if Klaus finds you with me-"

"I'm not leaving you," she whispers.

Damon's eyes open slowly, grudgingly. He gazes into her face, and though he is able to see her nearly everyday, in this moment he really _sees_ her. Her beautiful face is drawn and pale, her eyes underscored in dark rings. She's lost weight from her thin frame. He swallows thickly. He has to fix this. If it's the last thing he's able to do. "I'm alright, Elena. Stop worrying about me." He offers her his trademark, lopsided smirk.

Tears fill her eyes as she stares at him. "Why did you do it, Damon?" her voice is only just audible over the crackling fire.

Damon looks away, guilty and bitter. "You should go," he says shortly.

"Damon," she whispers, placing a hand on his chest. "I love you."

His gaze snaps back to Elena, all traces of his smirk replaced with his mournful expression. "You can't," he breathes. "You can't love me, Elena. You'll never be safe if you-"

She places one finger against his lips, halting his words. "I love you," she repeats with a small smile. "You need to remember that, Damon. _I love you_." She replaces her fingers with her lips, kissing him soundly before she slowly pulls away. She watches the emotions flutter in his eyes. She knows he loves her, knows he would gladly die if only for her good. All she wishes for, is for him to understand that she wholly feels the same for him, for him to understand that he deserves her love as much as she deserves his.

"Elena," he finally breathes, his fingers twining in her dark hair. His smile is real, bright, despite their current situation. "I will always love you," he tells her. "No one, not even an Original Hybrid, can change that." His hands are constantly moving, frantic almost in their quest to touch every inch of her. "I'll save you from this fate. Even if it costs my life."

She smiles as she shakes her head, she can't let him die for her. After all, how can she live in a world without him? She would rather spend the next 60 years enslaved to Klaus if it means Damon can stand at her side, than living at all without him. However, she doesn't get the chance to tell him. As, one moment, he's lying prone before her, clutching at her, and the next he's on his feet standing between her and the doorway. His voice is callous as he hisses at the hybrid minion standing a few feet from them, "What do you want?"

"Klaus requires a donation from the doppelganger. I could smell her in your room."

Damon snarls, "Get the fuck out of my sight before I rip that useless heart from your chest."

The hybrid smiles viciously, "You wouldn't. Klaus would have your head."

"Try me," Damon offers his best shit-eating grin, baring his fangs. Damon slams the door for good measure, and turns back to Elena. "Elena, I-"

She shushes him, placing her hands against his chest. "I agreed to this, Damon. You can't protect me from this forever." She kisses him once, briefly, then lets herself out of the room, turning to shut the door softly. Her fingers linger against the hardwood for a moment as she dreams what their life together might've been like, weeks, months, years ago. She makes her way in silence toward the room Klaus has made for her. Though the principle of the matter bothers her, her blood flowing from her veins, she grudgingly admits to herself that Klaus has, at the very least, gone out his way to make the room comfortable and almost charming.

…

Damon gazes into the fire. He knows these moments of solitude cannot possibly last. Any moment, his freewill will once again be removed, and he will be sent wherever the Original sees fit this time. Though he's aware that his comments, while truthful though made in anger, will surely earn him the scorn and ire of Klaus. He refuses to imagine what his next task will be. Instead, he recalls Elena's words and the feel of her pressed against him, her lips against his own. As much as he needs her to love him, he knows that it cannot possibly continue if either of them have any hope of surviving whatever Klaus might have in store for them.

There's still an ache in his temples, pounding to a beat he imagines is how his heartbeat once sounded. It fills him with a strange foreboding, and he isn't entirely sure what more could possibly happen to him. Doesn't believe it could get much worse. Though, he concedes, he's thought that before.

It's right in this moment that his phone vibrates from its place on the mantle. Frowning, he reaches for it, igniting the screen in white light as he taps the button. The text is received from an unknown number, and it's vague in its directions.

 _Wickery Bridge_

 _Dusk_

 _Come alone_

Nothing further. No name, no clue as to what this might mean for him. Intrigued, he quickly deletes the text and considers his odds of eluding the mansion just before dark without Klaus's permission. However, of all the Hybrid has demanded of him, he hasn't yet forbidden him to leave. He only must return again. The strange and unyielding _pull_ he feels, compelling him to return isn't the affect of any direct order from the Original. He firmly convinces himself it's solely for Elena's good. He refuses to consider the fact that the urge to return would lessen only slightly even if Elena was safely far from this place.

There's no knock on his door to alert him, but he hears the near-silent footsteps long before they stop behind him. He doesn't turn around; he figures by now if Klaus wants to kill him, he might just let him.

"There's a pack in southern Pennsylvania. You're going to locate them for me," he says in lieu of a greeting. "I expect your expedient completion and return. You're to see Elena briefly before you leave. You will witness the power I have over you both. Nothing you do will change that, Damon Salvatore _._ " Then he's gone.

He leaves Damon trembling in anger. The next time he aids Elena's escape, he's compelling her into living out the rest of her human life on a foreign beach where Klaus will never think to look for her.

...

When he enters the bright room, with the cheery curtains pulled to the sides to let in the sunlight, the juxtaposition of the cute, sunlit room and Elena hooked up to a machine extracting her blood stirs Damon's anger once again. He gazes fondly at her for long seconds, watching her chest rise and fall easily against the flower print comforter. Her eyelids flutter gently as the door softly snaps behind him, but she remains relaxed in her slumber. His heart aches to lay down beside her, pull her close, shush her fears, engulf her in his arms and never let her go. He doesn't give into these desires, however; Klaus's words echoing in his head. _You will witness the power I have over her, over you. Nothing you do will ever change that, Damon Salvatore._

His visit must be brief, as Klaus's order to track down a new werewolf pack somewhere in the mountains of Pennsylvania is to be a quick completion. But he has to see her, fill every empty space in his psyche with pieces of her. Klaus has yet to fulfill his promise to Damon to erase Elena's love of the vampire. Though Damon wonders to himself what the cause of the Original's hesitation might be, in the end, he decides, it doesn't much matter. Elena is far safer if she doesn't love him, if she doesn't remember any of the good hidden within him. He grazes the relaxed contours of her face with the back of his fingers, as gentle as a breath. Even the light touch sends electric sparks flying over his frayed nerves, and he wonders at what this human can do to him without even trying. He's a moth drawn to her flame, and even knowing this, he welcomes the way his wings singe and burn. But he can't be selfish with this girl, this child at just over the age of 18. He has decades and decades of life before her. Each and every one of those years feels wasted without her.

When he finally forces himself to leave her, he slips silently from the room. Eternity feels longer than it ever has before. The sun is close to the horizon now, red and orange light casting long shadows. He sighs as he drops into the driver's seat. He might just make this mystery meeting, after all, he thinks as the car roars to life.

Wickery Bridge is vacant. The vampire grinds to a stop on the shoulder before yanking the e-brake and stepping lightly from the car. He walks to the edge of the bridge, his heightened senses spread wide as he listens for whomever he is supposed to be meeting. The sun has just disappeared behind the treeline, casting long shadows over and around him. The sounds surrounding him consist entirely of wild animals and a car in the distance. He waits nearly half an hour, before he decides no one is coming after all. Klaus's orders to hurry are nagging him toward the direction of his car.

Just as he turns back, he feels the telltale displacement of air that signals _vampire_. And as he whirls to determine whomever would dare to slink up behind him, he feels a needle puncture the skin at the base of the back of his neck. He suddenly finds himself face to face with his brother. Stefan's expression is equally guilty and determined. "Stef… No! Don't-," is all Damon manages to gasp before the plunger is forced down and the telling burn of vervain ignites in his veins, and his words break off on a moan of pain. Elena is his last desperate thought before the twilight around him fades decidedly to black.

Stefan catches his brother's limp form easily, nodding his thanks to Caroline for her part of injecting the vervain. He swallows thickly at the guilt bubbling up inside of him. Damon's last whimper of Elena's name does little to assuage his regret, but he knows this is the only way. Klaus won't kill Elena to get Damon back; the same cannot be said for Damon. If there is any chance at all of getting them both back alive, taking Damon first, he now realizes, is the only way. "I'm sorry, brother," Stefan murmurs as he carefully deposits his brother's limp form into the back seat of Bonnie's borrowed SUV.

...

Stefan watches his brother carefully. It takes Damon hours to rouse again, but Stefan is aware of the exact moment his brother begins to return to life. It starts small, only a twitch at first, but it takes just a second more for icy blue eyes to fly open. The younger Salvatore isn't entirely surprised to see the panic in his older brother's eyes. "Stefan?" He sounds slightly unsure. Which Stefan can understand, as the situation Damon has awoken to isn't something he is accustomed to being of his brother's doing. His arms are affixed at the wrists above his head, thick chains twined tightly around his flesh and coated with vervain for good measure. The thick steel at his ankles mirrors that which holds his hands. Stefan knows Damon's first instinct will be to get away, back to Klaus, as the Original's pull surely warrants. He needs time to help Damon fight the compulsion-like need, so he can get his brother back.

Damon pulls at his wrists first, the chains clanging unyielding above his head. He hisses at the vervain dripping from them. Desperation sets in quickly. "You're making a mistake," Damon growls. "I _have_ to go back. Elena is alone!"

Stefan frowns, worry lines forming in his expression. "No, Damon. Klaus won't kill her. I had to save you first. Soon, we'll return for her."

Damon's working at the chain binding one ankle now. "He'll leave with her! They'll disappear the moment he discovers I didn't return."

"Brother," Stefan's tone is calm and placating. "We're going to fix this. Together." However, Damon is beginning to look as a wounded, cornered animal would. His eyes are wild and desperate, air is filling and emptying his lungs at a quick, jagged, and uneven pace.

"Let me go, Stefan." He jerks particularly hard at his left wrist. Stefan winces at the resulting, resounding snap.

"Damon, calm down. I'm trying to help y-"

"Let me go!" Another bone gives under his vicious desperation. " _I have to go back!_ "

"He's going to kill you, Damon," Stefan tries a new tactic of convincing him. "Elena is endlessly more important to Klaus than you are. What do you think will happen when he tires of whatever sick entertainment he's found in tormenting you?"

Damon pauses, bones realigning with jarring pops. "I can't- You don't understand. I can't…" He finds extreme difficulty articulating the nearly frantic _need_ to return to Klaus, as he doesn't understand it either. "I _have_ to," he says finally.

Understanding settles somewhat. "You have to fight it," Stefan murmurs. "You're stronger than his blood bond, Damon. You have to be."

Damon feels as though his head is splitting in two. Stefan's logic is pulling at one half, the impossible desire to return to the Original Hybrid ruling the other. He groans, fighting to keep his muscles still, though they remain taut and trembling. His teeth grind together until he's sure the enamel will crumble. "I'm not," he breathes.

"You are."

"Do you think I would've done half those things if I was?" Rage is quickly igniting and burning away his desperation. Anger always was an easier emotion to deal with. "I can't fight him, Stefan!"

"You're strong enough." Stefan sighs sadly, "You have to be."

Damon's howls of pain and frustration rock the house.

…

Niklaus Mikaelson has spent centuries searching for each woman who has ever shared her face. His sweet Tatia was the first. Though his brother, Elijah, had loved her as well, he believes she loved Klaus most. She would sneak away from all the tedious mundane of their everyday lives just to see him. Their favorite place was a small grove just through the treeline not a mile from their village. She was breathtakingly beautiful with her youthful curiosity and wonderment, a fire burning brightly in her eyes. Something about his brokenness and brash charm and the way it contrasted uniquely to Elijah's manners and elegant formalities intrigued her.

The moment he knew, without reservations, that she loved him, was the first night they made love under the full moon. When he had returned to his small home, Elijah had been waiting up for his return. Though his brother had not asked where he'd been, Klaus was certain Elijah already knew. He hadn't counted on the way Elijah's eyes, full of envy and disappointment, wounded him deeply. And thus, the first fissure between himself and his brother was created. The parallels between him and Elijah were mirrored by those of the Salvatore boys. Their mutual love for the doppelgangers had ensnared them all in a hopeless web of deceit, desire, and despair.

Perhaps it was his father's desire to take all that Klaus loved, or perhaps it was their mother's want to ensure her sons did not fight each other for a simple girl, Klaus would never be entirely sure. But the night his parents sealed their fate as vampires, the blood that graced their lips was hers, Tatia's. And so, Klaus lost the first doppelganger, and the first woman, save perhaps his mother or Rebekah, he had ever truly loved.

Katerina, in all her youthful naïvety, had drawn her between the eldest Mikaelson brothers without a single inkling of what it might mean for her. Klaus thinks, perhaps, that the second doppelganger loved Elijah more than she loved him, but the way wonder would light up her expression each time Klaus spoke alluded to the fact that she was not at all immune to his dark charms. However, Elijah had learned a valuable lesson from Tatia and her would-be betrayal in Klaus's bed. He was careful to keep his growing attraction to Katerina a secret for as long as he could. And though Klaus desired Katerina and her love, in the end, it was her key in breaking the curse that drove him. A selfishness he hadn't meant to consume him. And thus, he lost the second doppelganger.

Elena, of course, was the third woman in the line of Petrova doppelgangers irrevocably cursed to love the wrong men for all eternity. Her all-consuming love for the elder Salvatore brother was what originally started them all onto the path they now found themselves. Damon had exactly what Klaus had desired for centuries now, the unconditional love of the doppelganger. The difference between Damon and Elijah, was that Damon didn't possess enough power required to oppose an Original. So, the long, evenly matched fight over Tatia between himself and his brother, would never happen with himself and Damon. However, he had needed a sure-fire way to bind Damon to him, to give his sweet doppelganger an air-tight reason to remain close enough to Klaus that he could ensnare her himself. Though he had begun as collateral damage, Damon was beginning to grow on Klaus. He could see parts of his own brother in Damon, qualities he found he had grown to miss what with Elijah daggered in a coffin. Loyalty, undying love, and an insightful intelligence only heightened by becoming a vampire. Though Elijah's moral compass tended to point more toward the north than Damon's, Klaus grudgingly began to admit that Damon reminded him of the brother he missed most.

However, he desired Elena's love more than the reminder of the brother he had let down more times than he could count, and so, Damon became a tool in destroying Elena, so Klaus himself could put her back together. Damon's sharp mouth and disregard for any authority made it that much easier to justify the wrongs Klaus committed against them. His little, human whore, Maggie, was simply a test. To understand the depth of Elena's feelings for the darker Salvatore. To see exactly how far he could push Damon toward the edge before he fell, or perhaps jumped. Though he would admit, it didn't have the intended consequences, it did reveal to Klaus quite a bit about the two of them. Elena had a very generous amount of forgiveness when it came to Damon, and Damon was willing to sacrifice every last piece of himself just to keep Elena safe. Even if it meant she no longer loved him.

And that was something, Klaus was certain, he could exploit.

...

The window fogs gently where her breath graces the cold glass. Elena is worried. Damon has been gone for days with no word to anyone on his progress. Though the full moon is still two nights off, she can't help but imagine all the awful things that could have befallen him. Today is the worst thus far, as she's noticed Klaus is also on edge. He's called Damon's phone numerous times with no success. Just a few minutes ago, he sent two hybrids out to find him, return him alive but by whatever means necessary, even if it means a werewolf bite for which Damon would be forced to bring to Klaus to heal.

Elena worries. Damon wouldn't leave her here, essentially unprotected, unless he had no other choice. Which begs the question, _why_ didn't he have any other choice?

She can't discern for sure if Klaus is simple furious, or if he's a bit worried himself; which she finds slightly absurd considering Klaus's lack of any humanity. However, when the Original calls her to his suite, she finds herself trying to find anything at all human in him. She waits for him to speak, silently dropping into a large armchair on one side of the immaculately decorated room. She has resigned herself to this fate, and she's still slightly lethargic from the blood he's been gathering from her veins.

"What did Damon say to you before he left?" Klaus asks quietly, his back turned to her, his eyes lost somewhere much further than the scenery outside the double paned window.

Elena thinks back, _I'll save you from this,_ Damon had said. _Even if it costs my life._ "Nothing," she murmurs. "I didn't see him before he left."

Klaus turns sharply from the window. "That's a lie," he growls. "Damon would've had to have seen you before he left. I commanded it."

"I fell asleep while my blood was being drawn. Maybe he stopped by then."

Klaus turns back toward the frosty glass. "He would never leave you without a goodbye," he whispers, more to himself, she thinks, than to her.

"Has something happened to him?" she breathes as loudly as the lump of tears in her throat allows.

Klaus nods, "Perhaps."

Elena looks away, swallows thickly through her tears and gets to her feet. "May I go, please?"

Klaus turns back to her once again. "In a moment," he agrees, taking light steps in her direction until he stands right in front of her. His fingers a lock of her hair thoughtfully, watching the conflicting emotions wash over her face. His pupils dilate the moment she meets his eyes. "You won't worry your pretty, little head over Mr. Salvatore," he compels. "You will return to your room and get some much needed sleep and rest."

She repeats his words monotonously before turning away to do exactly that. She feels as though a great weight has been lifted, and she can breathe again. However, as she lays her head on the thick, plush pillow and pulls the heavy down comforter up to her chin, she feels a strange but unyielding sense that something is wrong. No matter how hard she tries to focus on the feeling, she can't pin it down, and eventually the impossible heaviness of her eyelids win out.

…

"Wake up. Damon, wake up."

"Elena?" He gasps, his vivid dream slipping through his numb fingers so quickly he can't quite remember it, only that Elena was the main part. "Stefan?" He asks as his eyes flicker open. His world is confusing and painful. It takes long seconds for reality and remembrance to begin to trickle back to him. He isn't sure how long he's been here, in this endlessly uncomfortable stance, his hands and fingers have long lost their feeling, his legs only just able to continue to hold his weight. He finds when he looks down, there's blood everywhere. It's coating his clothing, soaked through to his sore and tender skin; it's accumulated into a puddle beneath his boots. "Stefan, what did you… do to me?" He asks quietly, his nerves radiating in pain.

"We- I had to drain Klaus's blood from your system," Stefan replies, moving slowly closer to his brother.

"But… did you have to… gut me?" he nearly manages a small smile.

"Bonnie said," Stefan sighs, taking in how pale Damon is now. "I had to create as many outlets to let the blood as possible. I'm sorry," he adds.

"'S alright," his words are gently slurred, as though he's just on the left side of drunk. He'd kill for a bottle of bourbon right about now. "Did it… Did it work?"

Stefan frowns, noting that Damon isn't entirely lucid. "I-I'm not sure." Damon's head bobs slightly. "Damon? What is something Klaus has told you to do? Something we can test."

"I have to go back," he murmurs. "Return quickly." His eyes widen slightly, "How long have I been here?"

"Days," Stefan seems reluctant to admit this.

Damon tugs at the chains. His breathing suddenly picks up, a deeply ingrained reaction to urgency. "It hasn't worked yet," Stefan breathes, suddenly discouraged and afraid. Then he is clutching at Damon's chest, shoulders, "I can't save you from this," his words are panicked and afraid. "You were always the strong one, Damon. I can't save you from this unless you're fighting it, too." He dislikes the way his brain is misfiring in its frantic fear of losing Damon, for good, for the umpteenth time this year.

Damon's eyes have faded to a dull grey, and though he gives it his best effort, he can't quite manage to hold Stefan's gaze. The panic following off his brother in waves is palpable, and even in this state, he can feel it from Stefan; he just can't manage a proper response. Losing so much blood has left him dizzy and exhausted, and whatever is left of Klaus's hold over him is dimly fluttering in the back corner of his mind. "You should've killed me," Damon says at last, his tone thoughtful and tired. "Saved us all the trouble," his sentence breaks off on a slight cough that brings a bright splotch of red to his pale lips. He chuckles, but it's a wheezing and painful sound, "Think you… nicked an organ, Stef."

Stefan is staring at his brother, eyes wider than usual, a look of incredulity marring his expression. "This isn't the time for jokes, Damon! This is the last thing I can do to try to save you. If this doesn't work, you'll be forced to remain with Klaus forever." And that he thinks he might just join him, if only to be with his brother, he doesn't speak aloud.

"Just until he…" Stefan and the room they're standing in, blanks out for a moment before he can continue, "Kills me."

"Damon?" Stefan watches as Damon's facial features slacken out for a moment or two before realigning in a pinched expression of pain. "You need blood," he murmurs.

Damon nods, eyes lighting up just slightly at the thought of the rich red liquid he's intensely craving. Stefan returns shortly, two blood bags in his hand. He rips the first open and presses the tube into his brother's mouth, "Drink," he tells him unnecessarily.

Damon's lips close around the plastic tubing as he takes a long pull, the blood filling his mouth, igniting his taste buds instantly. He swallows the large gulp- or tries to. He chokes on the mouthful, coughing up red that splatters across the shirt covering Stefan's chest. He takes a breath he doesn't need, tries again. He can't swallow it. "I _can't_ … I-" he breaks off abruptly, remembers days, weeks ago. _My blood is the only blood you're allowed to ingest. None other_ , Klaus had said. Damon's fingers are trembling so badly he can barely grip Stefan's shirt. "It's Klaus, he said- I _can't_ drink it, Stef-"

"Try," Stefan encourages, sensing the agitation rising in Damon. "You can do this. You _need_ it, Damon. This is the only way to defeat his blood bond."

Damon nods, once, determined and _thirsty._ He allows the demon of his vampiric nature to flood forth, the veins slithering darkly under his pale eyes. His throat burns at the taste he's longed for. The muscles in his neck tighten and tense, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly as everything in him fights against Klaus's hold over him.

Nothing happens. Blood leaks from the corners of Damon's mouth, in between his fangs. Stefan is reminded sharply of their years as humans, watching Damon in this exceedingly rare moment of weakness. As tears of desperation slowly fill the corners of his brother's eyes, Stefan feels his heart cracking. His elder brother, who had always been a constant, definite source of unfailing strength, is coming apart at the seams.

Damon groans, and the sound permeates Stefan's psyche and fills him with dread. "Stefan," the gasp falls from Damon's mouth, simultaneously a plea and a warning. " _I need blood,"_ he moans, and it's nearly a whine. The blood he can't drink is dripping off his chin, slipping to his ruined clothes and boots.

Stefan is at a loss. This was their last chance. This was most likely the only way to break the bond without irreparably harming Damon, Bonnie had said; drain Damon of as much of Klaus's blood as possible, then allow him to drink his fill of blood from any other source. Though, they hadn't counted on this, Damon's inability to drink. He is losing Damon, he realizes, moments before Damon's legs give out and Stefan is forced to hold him up and steady. His eyes roll back as his head falls forward. "Elena _,_ " Damon breathes as he fades. " _Elena._ "

…

 _ **A/N:**_ _Thank you all for the amazing reviews. I absolutely love to read them._

 _Whew, I'm sorry this took much longer than expected. I just couldn't quite get it the way I wanted it. It might seem a bit slower than the other chapters, but I wanted to provide a bit of back story for Klaus and his doppelgangers. Below, I have written responses to the anonymous reviews._

 _Thank you, readers and reviewers!_

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	6. Chapter 6

_****Updated, as I realized the pre-final draft was posted instead. Some errors have been fixed, but storyline has not been altered. Sorry for any inconvenience.****_

 _ **A/N**_ _: I make no money off this story. The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me; rights belong to the CW, LJ Smith, Julie Plec, and any other original owners.  
I have no beta, and I wrote this on my phone, so please be forgiving about the minor errors. Please review and enjoy._

 _ **Chapter 6: What Cannot Be Undone**_

 _"If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story." -Orson Welles_

 _ **Previously…**_ _Stefan feels his heart cracking. His elder brother, who had always been a constant, definite source of unfailing strength, was coming apart at the seams._

 _Damon groans, and the sound permeates Stefan's psyche and fills him with dread. "Stefan," the gasp falls from Damon's mouth, simultaneously a plea and a warning. "_ I need blood _," he moans, and it's nearly a whine. The blood he can't drink is dripping off his chin, slipping to his ruined shirt and boots._

 _Stefan is at a loss. This was their last chance. This was the only way to break the bond, Bonnie had said; drain Damon of as much of Klaus's blood as possible, then allow him to drink his fill of blood from any other source. Though, they hadn't counted on this, Damon's inability to drink. He losing Damon, he realizes, moments before Damon's legs give out and Stefan is forced to hold him up and steady. His eyes roll back as his head falls forward. "Elena," Damon breathes as he fades. "Elena."_

...

Stefan taps out an urgent text to Bonnie. Damon won't wake up now, no matter what Stefan tries. He's growing concerned they've passed the point of helping Damon and moved entirely to the irreparable harm they'd been trying so desperately to avoid in the first place. He's laid Damon onto the bed in the far corner of the basement room. Using a bucket of warm water and a hand towel, Stefan even managed earlier to clean his brother up somewhat. However, even with most of the blood wiped from him, his skin is incredibly pale against the dark sheets. His wounds remain dark and angry, unhealed and marring his flesh.

Stefan is worried he'll have to call Klaus, after all. That he'll have to crawl back to the Original and beg him to save his brother. Again. Because of him. It takes every ounce of self restraint within him to not chuck the phone in his hand at the wall when Bonnie's reply comes through with a chime.

 _Maybe we should send him back to Klaus. I have a new plan to save Elena._

He doesn't believe he and Bonnie share the same reservations. For him, Damon is his brother and equally worthy of saving as Elena is. For Bonnie, though, Damon is a means to an end; his usefulness is in direct relation to his integral role in saving Elena. And right now, Stefan is certain that if he ships his brother back to Klaus, the Original isn't going to take this latest attempt at freedom lightly. He needs a second opinion, someone who cares about Damon's wellbeing, too. His next text message is quickly sent to Alaric.

...

The ex-vampire-hunter and the Bennett witch arrive at the Boarding House less than an hour later. Stefan still hasn't been able to rouse Damon. With murmured promises, he leaves his brother lying still on the small bed and climbs the stairs to greet his guests. He leans heavily against the basement door, wearily pulling himself together. It is in that moment that Stefan hears raised voices from the front foyer. He can hear Ric and Bonnie, but there are other voices, at least two others, he doesn't recognize. In a blur, he rushes to find out what's going on. As he skids to a halt feet from the front door, he comes upon the sight of Ric, gripping a crossbow, and Bonnie, arms raised defensively in front of her, shouting at the three hybrids standing haughtily on the gravel of the drive.

"Why are you here?" Stefan asks as he steps out into the sunlight.

"Klaus sent us to hunt your brother. Though," the first man chuckles, "We have orders to _bite_ any vampire who prevents us from returning Damon to Klaus."

"He isn't here," Stefan snaps. "I haven't seen him since Klaus snapped my neck and absconded with my brother."

The second hybrid smirks darkly, "We can _smell his blood_. It's everywhere. Did you kill him just to be done with it?"

Stefan is beginning to panic, but he carefully schools his features into indifference. "He isn't here. Perhaps the blood is old. This _has_ been his home for over a century. It isn't such a stretch to think he's bled out onto the hardwood once or twice."

"Channeling him, are you?" Ric says with a crooked smirk. "Well, boys, you heard the man. Damon isn't here. Unless you'd like to find out just how great my aim is, I'd get lost." He cocks the crossbow in his arms, then aims easily at the chest of the first one who spoke. "I'll give you exactly three seconds to be on your way."

"We aren't stupid," the third one growls. "We know he's here. So," he reasons sarcastically, "I see only a couple choices here for you. You can hand him over, and we'll be on our way. If you're quick about it, we _might_ not even bite him, after all. Or, second option, we can return to Klaus and tell him what we found out today. I'm sure he'd be just _so happy_ to come down here and collect that worthless vampire himself."

Bonnie grips Stefan's arm, whispering, "Don't, Stefan."

Ric fires off a wooden bolt, the added power of the modifications he's made propels it faster than the hybrid expects. However, the half-vampire manages to sidestep it just enough that it ends up protruding from his shoulder instead. "I won't miss again. _Leave._ "

"No," Stefan suddenly says, his tone and expression passive. "No, I don't think they can leave now. Not when they'll surely sick their half-breed master here as soon as they return to him." Stefan breaks Bonnie's hold on him and in a blur stands before the first hybrid, who has yet to pull the bolt from his flesh. Stefan takes the liberty of yanking it free himself; he hesitates not a moment before he sinks it through the chest of the hybrid to his left while forcing his hand through the chest of the one who stands directly in front of him. The hybrid he staked drops immediately, grey veins taking over him. The second goes slack as well as Stefan pulls his heart free.

The vampire turns to the last hybrid standing with a vicious grin, "Pick your poison," he says. The hybrid growls angrily, baring poisonous fangs in Stefan's direction. Sighing, he mutters, "Have it your way," as he grips the other's neck. With a twist and a tug, he's left standing with the half-werewolf's head between his hands. Dropping it carelessly, he turns back to his friends. "We need to get rid of these bodies," he says, as though this is all very normal for a Wednesday afternoon.

As Alaric gathers a tarp, and Stefan moves the bodies beside Ric's SUV, tires rolling over gravel alert them to another guest. A pale hybrid sedan pulls up easily, silently beside Bonnie's vehicle. Caroline and Jeremy step out, eyeing the dead werevamps warily. "We missed all the fun, huh?" Jeremy asks, moving to help Ric align the tarp properly before Stefan and Caroline lift the bodies in. "Bonnie called us on her way over," he continues. "Figured the more brain-power, the better."

The silence which would've once been filled with Damon's snarky commentary is left unfilled.

"We'll deal with them later," Ric says, his voice slightly gravelly. He ignores Caroline's muttered complaint over getting blood under her freshly manicured nails.

The five move into the kitchen of the Boarding House, Stefan retrieving a bottle of animal blood for himself, a blood bag for Caroline, and three water bottles for the humans. Ric silently refuses the water and briefly disappears, returning with one of Damon's crystal tumblers filled with their mutually favored amber alcohol. As he takes a sip and savors the burn, Damon's deep timbre whispers through his mind, _Bourbon, neat._ He swallows thickly. "How is he?" He asks of Stefan.

Damon's brother frowns, sighing, "He won't wake up. It seems Klaus is, once again, at least a step ahead of us. He forbade Damon to consume any blood that wasn't his own."

"But his wounds won't heal unless he ingests more blood, right?"

Stefan shakes his head, "No. He hasn't healed."

Ric is about to express further concern, but Jeremy beats him to it. "So, you're just letting him desiccate down there?"

Stefan closes his eyes, weary. "That's why you're all here. We've just failed our only real plan. We need a new one."

Bonnie nods, "I have a new plan. You're not going to like it very much, though." She takes a seat at the island, tucking her feet under her on the stool. "When I healed Damon the first time, before Klaus took him, he paid me with his blood," to prove this, perhaps, she pulls one small vial from her purse and sets it between them all on the counter top. "Damon knew the power of giving me this. Though there many things I could do with it, perhaps the most important is this; I can control Damon if I evoke the proper spell."

" _Control him_?" Stefan repeats.

"Yes. It's similar to Klaus's blood bond, I can, with this," she fingers the vial before them, "Bind my will to Damon. I can break Klaus's bond to him by replacing it with a similar one of my own."

Ric looks doubtful. "So, essentially, Damon is just a puppet? I thought the entire point of getting him away from Klaus was to give him his freewill back? This is just more mind control," he snaps. "How is this any better than what Klaus has done to him?"

"Because we're not evil!" Caroline exclaims. "We're not going to force him to kill people or-"

"Or _force_ him to do things?!" Alaric argues.

"Won't this, I don't know, fry his brain?" Jeremy throws in. "Two different people fighting over control of his mind… Doesn't sound like such a good idea."

Stefan watches, thinking. He isn't sure, either, to be honest, but what choice is left? He can't just leave his brother to Klaus's will.

Alaric is shaking his head, "No, it isn't a good idea. Jeremy's right, we'll be frying his-"

"It doesn't work that way," Bonnie murmurs. "Only the strongest will prevails. Damon will be caught up in the middle, but the fight will, primarily be between Klaus and I."

Jeremy looks more doubtful than before. "Do you think you can beat him?" He whispers.

"Yes, I'm sure I can. Besides, if we time it right, I'll have the element of surprise on my side. That's why we have to send him back to Klaus. If he believes we've failed in taking Damon, his guard will be down."

Stefan winces, "Send him back?"

"It's the only way."

"Klaus will be angry. Who knows how he'll react to Damon's disappearing act this time," Ric argues.

"Ric's right. Klaus might just kill him to be done with the trouble altogether," Jeremy says quietly.

"I don't think so," Caroline argues gently. "Klaus sent his hybrids out to find him. Why would he bother if he was just going to kill him?"

"The hybrids were ordered to bite him, Caroline," Ric can't help that his tone is harsher than he meant it to be. "Did you forget what a werewolf bite does to a vampire?"

"Of course not," Caroline replies impatiently, "But then they'd take him back to Klaus, who would obviously heal him."

"Or he'd just watch him die!" Jeremy exclaims.

Bonnie's frown deepens. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Stefan," she looks to the younger Salvatore, "Caroline and I are for this new plan, Mr. Saltzman and Jeremy are against it. That means you're the tie-breaking vote. What should we do?"

Stefan watches them for long moments, considering the heavily weighted pros and cons. Not for nearly the first time this week, he wishes for Damon. His older brother was typically the strategist, always the one with a plan. No matter how crazy the plan might be. "You're sure you can beat him, Bonnie? You're sure, that with even more of Klaus's blood in his system, you'll be able to reach Damon and win?"

Bonnie nods, "I'm sure. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to establish a hold on Damon's mind because the blood in his veins before the Klaus encounter had been replaced by Klaus's own. I tried, though, a few days ago. I was able to get into his head. The blood bond makes it trickier, but I'm confident I can beat Klaus with magic."

"You got into his head?" Stefan asks quietly, subdued somewhat. "Why didn't you tell me? Was he-"

"I didn't tell you because nothing happened worth repeating. I showed him a possible future of his, in hopes of encouraging him to fight Klaus."

Stefan nods and looks away. "I don't like it," he says softly. "Not at all." He sighs heavily. "But I don't think we have much choice. This is the best plan we have. If Bonnie can take back control of Damon's mind from Klaus, we should be able to extract both Elena and Damon. However… he's going to be angry."

"We need a weapon," Ric agrees quietly.

"A white oak stake," Jeremy says.

"Yes."

"The only one in existence burned with Mikael."

Bonnie hums in response. "Perhaps not." She taps her fingers against the smooth counter before wrapping them tightly around the vial of Damon's blood. "I think after the spell tonight, it's time to find and undagger Elijah."

"You think he knows where a second dagger is?"

Bonnie shrugs. "Either way, he knows much more about Klaus's weaknesses than we do. Besides, he owes Elena after his last betrayal."

"While that is true," Ric says calmly, "We have no idea where Klaus took him."

Bonnie eyes Stefan, "He never showed you?"

"I'm sure he's moved them. However," he trails off, gazing out the window to the sunny backyard. "Rebekah might know."

"Oh great," Jeremy sighs with sarcasm. "That's just what we need. Another vengeful Original. And while Elijah _might_ help us, why would Rebekah? She was on our side before Elena literally _stabbed her in the back._ Even though we all know why she did it, you really think Rebekah is going to hear us out before she starts ripping heads off?"

The silence following Jeremy's words is long. None of them have answers for that. They are all extremely weary and worried. Alaric is the first to break the subdued quiet of the room, "Can I," he pauses, inhaling through his teeth, "see him?"

Stefan nods, slightly distracted. "Of course," he murmurs.

Ric drops down the concrete steps, anxious to see his friend. The sight that greets him as he forces open the heavy door is disheartening, to say the least. Damon is pale against the thin mattress underneath him. While Ric tries to convince his despondent mind that Damon looks as though he could be sleeping, the effort is wasted the moment Damon's eyes flicker and Klaus's name falls weakly from his lips. "Damon," his friend calls softly, dropping to his knees beside the vampire's makeshift bed. "You're alright," Though it's a bit of a lie, Ric is desperate to assuage his friend's fear. "Klaus isn't here, Damon. You're safe."

Damon's eyelids flutter again, and Alaric isn't sure if he's actually awake or aware of his presence. The vampire moans, "H...hurts."

"I know, Damon. I know. We're going to fix this. I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

Damon agitation is growing; he shifts, writhes, in pain against the bed. "I couldn't…" he breathes. "I failed…"

Ric grips at his ruined shirt, his fingers brushing the cold skin beneath. "No, no, you didn't fail. It's not over yet, Damon. Don't give up."

Damon cries out softly, random muscles spasm in his unconscious effort to escape… _something_. The sound that Damon makes is quiet and subdued, but Ric realizes Stefan must have heard it because not a moment later he hears soft but quick footfalls on the stairs behind him. Stefan is at Damon's side in an instant, asking Ric is a quiet voice, "Did he wake up?"

"Not really. It was almost like he was dreaming."

Stefan grips his brother's hand in his own, ignoring the whispered reminder in the back of his mind that this isn't usual for the brothers any longer. This subconscious _need_ to touch Damon, to reassure himself of his presence, has not been something he's had since he was young and human. He can't lose Damon. Not when they've only _just_ found their way back to each other and their brotherly bond, after all the pain and strife that the last century has wrought upon them.

"Are we really doing this, Stefan?" Ric whispers the question without looking up. "Turning him back into Klaus's grasp… We've only just gotten him back. How do we know," he stops abruptly, halted by the sinking feeling stuck in his throat. "What if Klaus-"

"Kills him?" Stefan finishes the agonizing thought they share. "We just have to believe that he won't. For whatever reason, Klaus has gone to _a lot_ of trouble to keep Damon alive- and in his grasp. There has to be a reason, or Damon would already be dead."

"He's going to be angry."

Stefan hums thoughtfully. "But perhaps not directly at Damon, if I…"

Ric looks up then, startled. "If you- what?"

"If I'm the one to return Damon. If I… if I," he trails off, uncertain.

"Just casually explain to the oldest, most evil half-vampire, half-werewolf in existence that you stole his favorite blood slave and drained him dry in an attempt to undermine said hybrid?" Ric finishes for him, a slight, rueful smile tilting his lips despite the seriousness of their situation.

Stefan looks over at the history teacher, his expression lost somewhere between reluctant amusement and bewildered exasperation. Somewhere along that line of thought, he too cracks a hesitant smile. "Well, when you put it that way, it just sounds insane."

Ric chuckles, "Then Damon would probably approve."

Their smiles fade as they gaze back at the vampire. "Do you think Elena is alright?" Alaric breathes.

Stefan closes his eyes. "Damon will help us save her." He sighs heavily. "But… Klaus won't kill her. She's too important to him."

Ric gets back to his feet. "I'll give you a few minutes alone with him. Then we'll discuss the best way to return him to… Klaus." Ric gives one last, long look at his best friend, before he disappears back up the steps they had come down, desperately hoping it won't be the last time he sees him alive.

Stefan sits down a few feet away from his brother. Damon hasn't woken, hasn't moved, since he entered the basement to check on him. The silence of the room is suffocating, and as he watches his brother's chest rise and fall occasionally and considers the conversation he'd just had with Ric, all he can think is that some things can never be undone. Some things, once ruined, can never be fixed.

…

Klaus leans backward in the chair until his head rests against the back, eyes falling closed. He concentrates on Damon, brushes against the darker-haired man's mind. To the Original's surprise, Damon feels close. Perhaps not in Pennsylvania as he'd been commanded. Damon's mind is covered in a thick fog which makes it difficult for Klaus to speak to him. For sometime, he isn't sure he is making it through to the Salvatore. _Damon…_ He repeats his name over and over, until, finally-

 _Klaus._

Klaus smirks, falling deeper into concentration. _Where are you?_

 _I… I'm not sure._ Damon's voice is soft, echoing slightly, as if he is at the bottom of a well.

 _Think, Damon. Where are you?_

 _It hurts._

 _What hurts, Damon? Where are you?_

 _I… I can't… remember…_ There are long pauses between Damon's words.

Klaus wonders if this mental link is too draining on Damon for the other to uphold it much longer. _What happened to you?_

 _I couldn't break it… I failed… Failed them. I…_

The connection breaks off with a fizzle of Klaus's energy.

The Original snaps his eyes open in irritation. Damon gave him very little to go on. However… that last sentence sparks an idea in the Original's mind. Failed whom, exactly?

 _Stefan._

Klaus raises to his feet. He doesn't waste a moment barking out orders, demanding to speak with the three hybrids he had sent to the Salvatore Boarding House.

"They haven't returned," murmurs the man standing in the doorway of his suite. "Marcos believes they were killed."

"I see," Klaus replies, suddenly no longer angry. A smugness descends over him. "Well, as unfortunate as that may be, I know where Damon Salvatore is hiding. Excellent. Fetch the doppelganger, will you?"

"Of course," is the quick reply, and then he's gone.

The door falls closed with a light snap, but Klaus isn't paying much attention. He's gazing out into the bright, morning sunlight. He refuses to admit what, exactly, is churning just below the surface of his thoughts.

...

Elena awakens feeling much more rested than she has in weeks. She gazes at the ceiling, tracing patterns in her mind. Her thoughts are somewhat scattered as she tries to determine what might have woken her, but nothing seems off. Perhaps she is finally completely rested. As she throws back the covers and steps onto the chilly hardwood floor, she sighs slightly, gazing into the full mirror across the room. Though she doesn't look as bone-tired as she has in the days leading up to today, she'd be lying if she didn't admit the weariness she can feel mounting once again. Though she has resigned herself to this reality, she misses her brother, her friends, her life. There's something more, though she can't quite remember what- _who_ it is.

The hot, nearly scalding water, of her much needed shower is so refreshing that she's reluctant to step out even long after she has rinsed out all the soap twice over. Her thoughts are still somewhat scattered, and she knows she's forgetting something. Something important. She doesn't get the opportunity to dwell on it, however, for just as she pulls the grey Henley over her head, there's a sharp knock on the door. Quickly, she zips her jeans and straightens her shirt down around her hips, and walks softly to open the door. It's a hybrid she recognizes, but can't quite remember the name of. "Yes?"

"Klaus has summoned you. Come with me."

She sighs, looking back longingly at her large bed. "Fine. Can I least get my shoes?"

The hybrid nods but doesn't move away from his post at her door. She slips on her trainers but doesn't bother to fix the laces. She follows silently behind the man who leads her Klaus's room, extending an arm toward his door before leaving her to enter alone.

Elena knocks gently on the partly opened door before she pushes it gently open. "You wanted to see me?" she asks as she stands just inside his doorway.

Klaus hums his agreement, beckons her forward with only his fingers. "I trust you slept well?"

She nods, still hesitant of this Original.

"No troublesome worries over your beloved Damon, hmm?"

"Damon," she repeats hollowly. "Damon." In an instant, she remembers what exactly she has been forgetting. "Have you found him?"

Klaus frowns in her direction, "No," he admits quietly, "Not exactly." At her crestfallen expression, he adds, "However, a few of my hybrids have disappeared somewhere around the Salvatore Boarding House. Do you think that's a coincidence, love?"

Elena raises an eyebrow. "You think _Stefan_ kidnapped his own brother?"

Klaus smiles wolfishly, "It's exactly what I would do."

Elena shakes her head, "That doesn't sound like Stefan."

"No?" Klaus doesn't seem concerned, however. "Would you like to join me? You might just have a few moments with your friends."

Elena takes several steps forward, "You- you're allowing me to go?"

Klaus raises his hand to her cheek, gently brushing away stray strands of damp hair from her face. "Yes, so long as you agree to return with me when it comes time to leave."

Still, her face lights up with excitement. "When do we leave?" she asks quietly, given their close proximity to one another.

"Sooner would be prudent, I think. Before our Salvatore boys think up the next amazing failure, hmm?"

Elena blinks, takes a step back, but not before Klaus notices the way she minutely leaned into him. "You're not going to harm them, are you?"

"Not if I'm wrong about Stefan taking what's rightfully mine, no, I won't harm him."

"And," she whispers, "If he did?"

Klaus chuckles as he reaches for a set of car keys, "Fetch your coat, sweetheart."

...

The car rumbles beneath her, and somehow it is a comfort. Elena can't help but feel… off-kilter around Klaus. For so long now, all she's seen in him is the evil he projects out into the world. However, since Damon has been missing, she's seen… something _else_ in him. Something that reminds her sharply of Damon. Well, of Damon when she first met him. Something… hidden far below the surface. She wants to speak, ask him something- anything- to fill the slightly uncomfortable silence, but she can't force the words past her lips. Until the Boarding House looms before them. "Do you think Damon is here?"

Klaus glances at her before nodding, "Yes, I'm nearly positive."

"Do you think… he's alright?"

Klaus shakes his head. "I can't be sure. However, if Damon had the ability to return, he would have by now. That is the perk of this bond. He is forced to obey me if he is physically capable. Which he obviously isn't."

Elena considers this. "You're worried about him… aren't you?"

Klaus laughs, "Of course not. He is a convenient foot soldier, however."

"You have plenty of hybrids for that, though." She frowns, suddenly thinking of something. "That blood bond… does it work both ways?"

Klaus looks back at her again, caught slightly by surprise. "Of course not," He scoffs. "Have I ever done anything Damon has asked?"

She thinks back on this. "I-I'm not sure, but that's not really what I meant. Does it… I don't know, make you feel _protective_ of him?"

Klaus slams the breaks as he turns into the gravel drive. "No, I doesn't. However, I greatly dislike when others steal my assets."

Still, Elena isn't so sure she's convinced by his words. As she follows him out of the car and into the house, she can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe this bond with Damon has affected Klaus more than he's willing to admit.

Stefan greets them at the door. Though he outwardly appears calm and unaffected by the Original's presence, Elena can see the tense set of his shoulders. "Stefan," Klaus says, sing-song, as they walk through the front door. With his arms thrown out to each side, he continues, "Expecting me, mate?"

"Not really," Stefan replies evenly. "When has that ever stopped you, though?" He looks around Klaus, "Good to see you're alright, Elena. We're worried about you."

Elena smiles gently at her ex-boyfriend. "I'm okay. Thank you, Stefan. Is- is Jeremy here?"

Stefan nods, "They're all in the kitchen. I think they'd love to see you. You should probably give Klaus and I a minute, anyway."

Elena doesn't need telling twice. She quickly sweeps in the direction of the kitchen as Klaus pounces on Stefan's words. "Where is he, old friend?"

Stefan closes his eyes. "I'll tell you, but… I need you to be… _open-minded_ here for a minute."

"I'm not particularly in the mood for games, but very well. I'll bite."

"If I tell you where he is," Stefan says quietly, opening his eyes. "Just… don't kill him."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because he didn't disobey you. I locked him up. If you're going to blame someone, blame _me._ " Stefan tenses for Klaus's anger.

However, it doesn't come. "I'm already aware of that, Stefan. I won't kill him." He smirks. "Today," he adds argumentatively.

Stefan frowns. "Fine. Great." He turns away. "He's in the basement."

Stefan moves off to the kitchen before Klaus can say much else. Elena is hugging each of the others in turn, and when he arrives in the room, she turns to embrace him, too. "I've missed you," she tells him as she squeezes him around the ribs.

"Where's Klaus?" Ric asks quietly.

Stefan returns Elena's hug with less enthusiasm, though he is very glad to see her, feel her, know she's alive and well. "In the basement with Damon."

Elena releases him at once, taking a step back. "Damon?" she asks softly. "He _is_ here?"

Stefan nods, and opens his mouth to tell her maybe she should stay here with them, but she's already rushing toward the basement stairwell. "Hurry up, Bonnie." Stefan murmurs, staring after her. "It's now or never."

Bonnie nods, and pulls the necessary ingredients for the spell out from under the countertop.

...

Elena hurries down the stairs after Klaus. She's missed her family, her friends, but this is _Damon_ , and she needs to see him, to know he's alright. However, as she clears the dirty threshold of her least favorite room in the huge house, she is forced to choke back her gasp and the tears that follow. Damon isn't moving, isn't breathing save for the strangled movements his chest occasionally struggles through. Klaus has already reached him, gazes down at Damon with something in his posture that Elena has never seen in him. "You don't look so well, mate," Klaus murmurs, in a tone so gentle, Elena doesn't recognize that, either.

It is then that she remembers she needs to breathe, and oxygen fills her lungs and chases away the tiny white dots dancing across her line of sight. She blinks twice before the image of a prone Damon clears again and she can watch as Klaus viciously tears into his wrist. Blood rushes forth as a direct result of the entirely more than necessary force he's used. He shoves his flesh between Damon's teeth before a word can be spoken. For a moment, little happens beside Klaus's blood filling his mouth and dripping, wasted, down from each corner of his lips. Then, though, Damon comes back to life all at once. He both tries to swallow the entire mouth full at once and inhale desperately and deeply. He promptly chokes as he inhaled some of Klaus's blood, but the man is so desperate for the subsistence that he continues to drink even though he can't breathe at all anymore. He swallows an impossible number of times before reluctantly breaking away and rolling to his side. He splutters, harsh coughs shaking his entire form as splatters of blood mar the sheets beneath him. His icy eyes have yet to open; Elena is unable to avoid taking notice. As his coughs and gasps slow, he turns onto his back again, one leg bent at the knee, one arm bent over his chest. He doesn't speak.

"Better, I trust?" Klaus finally asks, not waiting for a reply before turning back to Elena. "Love, you should be enjoying this time with your little friends." He brushes past her. "If you'll excuse me, Stefan and I have some… business to attend to."

Damon, who had up until that point, remained silent and still, breathing evenly with his eyes still closed, jumps at Klaus's words. He's on his feet in a moment, his blue eyes trained on Klaus. "Don't," he says quietly; his voice sounds impossibly tired, but his eyes are fiery with anger.

Klaus stops short. "He nearly killed you, you know."

"I was there," Damon snaps. "Don't do this. He doesn't understand-"

"Damon?" Elena whispers. He stumbles slightly, his attention distracted by her suddenly, as though he hadn't noticed her until she spoke.

"E-Elena." He's caught looking between the two of them. "You shouldn't- shouldn't be- Why is she here, Klaus?"

"Damon, something's wrong with you, isn't it?"

Damon winces slightly, glancing to the far corner of the room for just a moment. His head's on fire. His entire being, down to the molecules made up of the borrowed blood in his veins, is at war with itself. He feels out of control and confused, and he doesn't feel as though his actions belong to him anymore. Every single one of his impulses feel as though they're coming from an outside source, and not only from Klaus anymore. He can sense… _someone_ else. Someone else is fighting for control over his mind. "I'm fine," he says shortly. Looking back to Klaus, he repeats, "Don't." Then, so quietly Elena nearly doesn't hear him, "Please."

Klaus's head turns sharply. "What?"

Damon frowns. Please? Did he _really_ just say _please_? Damon clears his throat, "He didn't- Stefan didn't do this to spite you, Klaus. He-"

Klaus stands immediately in front of him in an instant. "What did you _just_ say?"

"I…" Damon stumbles slightly, takes a step back and puts a hand to his head. It feels warm and damp even under his own touch. "I said- I said, Stefan didn't-"

"Before that!" Klaus bellows.

"I don't-" he cuts himself off with a groan. His eyes close again as he sways on his feet.

"Damon?" Elena whispers again, extending her hand toward him.

"Don't touch him, Elena!" Klaus shouts.

Elena is reluctant, but because she is fairly certain he's never used her actual name before and because of the tone he's using, she slowly backs away. "What's wrong with him?" she breathes.

"That's exactly what I'd like to know," Klaus snaps. "What, _exactly_ , did Stefan and that damn witch do to you?"

"I don't know," Damon snaps. "I've been _unconscious_ for-" Well, he isn't sure how long, honestly. "-a while. And what does Bonnie have to do with-"

"I can see her in your eyes, Damon."

" _What_? I don't know-"

"Come with me." Klaus growls. "Both of you- Elena. Now!"

Damon winces against the suddenly sharp, slicing burst of pain behind his eyes. "Elena?"

"Dammit, Salvatore, focus!" Damon's eyes lift sharply to meet Klaus's. "I need you to hold it together until we can visit a witch of my own," he orders quietly.

Damon nods, closes his eyes for a beat. He takes a breath and turns to follow Klaus behind Elena. Klaus's fury flows off of him dangerously as he stalks up through the house. He stops abruptly in the parlor, turning to the other two for just a moment, biting out, "Stay here," before disappearing further into the house.

Elena turns back to Damon. She's afraid to touch him, but she worried about him. "Are you alright?" she asks quietly, taking one step closer to him and searching his face carefully.

"Fine, Elena. I'm fine."

"Have you been here this whole time?"

"Yes," he murmurs.

"What was Stefan trying to-"

He cuts her off with a finger to his lips, then points to his ear and then motions around them. "He was trying to break the blood bond," Damon says, incredibly softly, on a slow exhale.

"But he couldn't?" Elena replies, equally quiet. Damon shakes his head once. "Why not?"

Before Damon can answer, a high-pitched scream splits the air. Damon moves to stand in front of Elena, to protect her from whatever has happened. However, Elena is clawing to get by him, yelling a panicked, "That was Bonnie! Damon, let me go."

He whirls around so his back is to the noises from the other room, and he's face to face with her. "Elena, I'm not sure what's going on in there. I'm not letting you throw yourself carelessly into the middle of it." The pain in his head reaches an agonizing peak, and then suddenly it evaporates. Damon stumbles backward slightly at the sudden release.

Elena is caught between concern for Bonnie and concern for Damon, and her eyes refocus on him for a moment. "What happened?"

He swallows thickly. He's fairly certain Klaus has just killed Bonnie, however, he can't bare to say it aloud to Elena. The Original sweeps back into their room, beckoning them to follow. Damon grips Elena's hand and immediately succumbs to the renewed pull to do as Klaus commands. "What did you do?" Elena protests.

"I've just saved your boyfriend, love." he replies without looking back, sliding effortlessly into the driver's seat as Damon gently shoves Elena into the backseat before taking a seat beside her.

"Did you… did you hurt Bonnie?"

"It was the only way to stop her spell." At her look of horror, Klaus adds, "Oh, relax. I didn't kill her. I'm sure dear, sweet Stefan has already healed the little bump on her head with his blood. No harm done."

Elena sighs, relieved her friend will be okay. Though she's irritated by Klaus's reliance on violence, curiosity suddenly dawns. "What spell?"

Klaus laughs bitterly. "The one that trades my control over Damon for her own." He glances in the rear view mirror, briefly making eye contact with her. "Tell me, love, does your little witch have Damon's best interests at heart? Or do you think perhaps she'd have him die just to save you? Are you willing to bet Damon's life on the wims of your little witchy friend?" He chuckles gently at the resounding silence that follows.

...

The witch that stands in front of Damon seems rather powerful, though Elena has never been very good at accurately sensing a witch's powers. She can't remember her name, but she can't manage to focus on much else beside Damon's face. He seems much less pale and unsteady than he had earlier, but Elena can still see the strain behind his eyes. He hasn't said much since Klaus commanded him to allow the witch to perform the ritual. His silence speaks volumes to Elena. She longs to grip his hand, reassure him, though he would never admit to his fears.

The witch begins chanting, resting both hands against Damon's chest. He raises a brow and glances at Elena. The eye contact doesn't last, however, for their attention is diverted by an incredibly thin strand of light that begins at Damon's chest, underneath the witch's hands, and slowly stretches to where Klaus stands, several feet away. Then, the witch moves one hand to Damon's forehead, her chanting increasing in volume. Damon suddenly feels in possibly drowsy, and his eyes fall closed for just a moment. However, it doesn't last. The witch raises her other hand from his chest before plunging it in his flesh toward his heart. His eyes fly open as he gasps in shock and pain. The witch grips his heart painfully for a moment, then, as quickly as she had forced her hand in, she pulls it out again and releases Damon from her hold.

"It's done," she murmurs to Klaus as she steps away to the other side of the room.

As soon as the witch is done, Damon blurs to the wall near Elena. He looks weary and irritated, but much more himself. The slight smirk he offers Elena is crooked and smoldering.

"There now," Klaus calls to them lightly. "Wasn't _so_ bad, was it?"

Damon's smirk fades as he looks back to Klaus. "That will keep Bonnie out of my head?"

"More or less," Klaus agrees.

"Now what?"

Klaus shrugs, as he off-handedly extends a large amount of cash to the witch without looking at her. "Business as usual." Klaus saunters over to them, dismissing the witch silently. "Werewolf pack in Pennsylvania?"

"I never got that far. I hardly made it out of Mystic Falls before-"

"Before you failed me? Yes, I'm aware. You allowed your younger, animal-blood-consuming brother to get the best of you. _Twice_. Tell me how that isn't incredibly weak of you, Damon?" He growls, taking a few more steps toward him. Damon sneers at him, but doesn't speak. "Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you." Klaus grips his chin, forcing their eyes to clash. "Tell me why I shouldn't just _rip your heart out_."

Damon smirks then, leaning in minutely. "Because you just paid some girl a fortune to perform some protection ritual on me. Because I'm not afraid of you. Because by now, I can call a bluff when I see one. Take your pick."

Klaus smiles good-naturedly, nodding with a chuckle. One second before reaching out and snapping Damon's neck effortlessly. He turns to Elena as the vampire in front of him slumps to the ground. "I don't suppose you have any snarky comments for me, do you, love?" Though his tone is light, Elena picks up on the undercurrent of anger there. She shakes her head. "Excellent. Shall we?" Klaus offers her his arm, and indifferently orders a hybrid- Tyler, Elena realizes, stunned- to throw Damon in the truck and meet them back at them mansion.

The drive back to Klaus's new fortress is quiet, but eventually, Klaus breaks the silence. "You shouldn't worry your pretty head. I'll keep Damon by your side."

Elena stares at him for a long moment before she whispers, "You're the reason for all of this, don't you realize that?"

Klaus's face remains neutral despite her words. "Damon would've died if I hadn't intervened. Twice over, in fact. Or have you already forgotten?"

Elena looks away, gazing intently at the clasped hands in her lap. "No," she utters, "I haven't forgotten. It's just…"

"What is it, love?"

"It's just- I, well," she frowns, frustrated she can't find the proper words. "Why go through all of this trouble? Surely you have plenty of blood for the hybrids by now. I would be happy to sometimes give you more, and-"

"Have I treated you poorly, Elena?" He asks quietly. "Is it so horrible for you, love?"

She looks up again, "No, I-I suppose it's not," and she seems more surprised by her own answer than he does. "It's just, I… miss my friends, my brother."

"You just saw them today," he sounds slightly exasperated.

"It's not the same. I had a life with them. I'm supposed to be graduating this year."

"High School?" He asks incredulously. " _That's_ what you're worried about? I'll compel a diploma for you if that will make you feel better."

She sighs, glancing in the rear view mirror as they pull up to the house. "It isn't the diploma I'm worried about." He kills the engine long before she speaks again. "I love him… more than I should. And I… don't want him to get hurt… especially because of me."

Klaus watches her closely. "He won't die by my hand, Elena, I promise you that," he breathes. He climbs from the car, and moves to open Elena's door, holding it open for her. "Come, you've had a long day."

Elena rises to her feet with a nod, closing the car door behind her. She makes to take a step forward but realizes that Klaus hasn't moved. She looks up at him, confused. "Wh-"

Klaus gently leans forward, pressing his lips against her hairline. "Everything will be fine, Elena."

...

Damon comes to in a very uncomfortable position. He quickly straightens up and rubs his neck, though the irritation quickly heals. He's alone in the dark living room, if it can be called that. He had been thrown haphazardly onto an antique couch, his head left hanging off one edge. He frowns, listening intently until he finds Elena's steady heartbeat. It's coming from the down the hall in the direction of her bedroom. Once he's reasonably convinced that she's safe, he tries to assess what time it is; how long he's been out. It's after dark, certainly, but he isn't tired, and his head is absent the infuriating, splitting headache of earlier, so he assumes everything went according to Klaus's master plan.

He decides a large glass of bourbon might just do nicely, so he makes his way to drawing room where Klaus likes to keep most of the alcohol. He finds a suitable bottle and reaches for a tumbler when he notices a figure lost in shadows sitting in front of the cold, darkened fireplace. "Want one?" He asks quietly.

Klaus chuckles. "I've already got one, mate."

"Refill, then?"

He lifts his glass to his lips, drinking down the rest in one gulp before lifting it into the air for Damon to fill again. "How's the neck?"

Damon rolls his eyes, but fills the tumbler before replacing the bottle and grabbing his own over-filled glass. "Fine, no thanks to you."

"Perhaps not. Although, I believe you do owe me some gratitude. It seems as though I've saved your life twice, just today."

"Hmm, where _would_ I be without every last one of you falling over each other to spare my miserable ass?"

"You should be more grateful for those who love you," Klaus doesn't really sound angry, no, he sounds… wistful.

"I'm plenty grateful," Damon murmurs into the dark. "But my dear, idiot brother is going to get himself killed, and for what? Or Elena-"

"I've been considering your request."

"To compel her to stop loving me?" he breathes, following his words with a long drink.

"The very one," Klaus agrees.

"Well?"

"I can't."

"Why not?" Damon demands.

The Original sighs heavily. "Because it isn't what you really want."

Damon growls, "That's ridiculous. She isn't safe-"

"You mentioned that already. That isn't what this is about. You are not the reason she's in danger, has that ever occurred to you? It's because of her bloodline. She's been in danger since before she was born. It doesn't matter, anyway; you and I will always protect her, won't we?" Klaus rises to his feet; his glass once again empty in his hand. "That isn't why I'm refusing you, however."

Damon takes a step back, uncertain of all this. "Then… why?"

Klaus moves to pour another generous helping into his glass, extending it then to Damon, as well. When their glasses are both full, he gazes away from Damon, his eyes lost somewhere far in the past. "Because," he breathes, "I already stole true love from a brother once."

Damon's expression is one of bewilderment and fear. He's always been so certain of his hatred of Klaus, of Klaus's evil. Now, though… In his uncertainty, he finds it difficult to speak.

Klaus continues, his voice barely a whisper, "Elijah truly loved Katerina. Though I convinced myself I never knew the extent of his feelings, it was a lie. I robbed them of any sort of happiness they ever could have found in one another."

Damon watches, silent and contemplative. "She didn't love him."

Klaus rounds on him, the quiet comment seeming to have angered him. "Excuse me?"

Damon clears his throat, repeats, slightly louder, "She didn't love Elijah." Though they both know he heard him the first time. "If she truly loved him, she wouldn't have run."

Klaus is silent for any long time before, "Perhaps…"

...

By the time Klaus and Damon have, in pregnant silence, drank their way through three bottles of Klaus's finer whiskey, Elena wakes in her room, feeling unsettled. She glances around, finding nothing but stillness in the dark room. She gets to her feet, dressing quickly in the dark and slipping on her shoes without her socks. She can't hear any voices as she pads down the shadowy halls, but she feels as though something is wrong. "Damon?" she whispers as she passes his door. There's no movement, as she's sure there would be if he was inside, even if he had been sleeping. His hearing has always been incredible.

She continues her walk down the hallway, slowing as she reaches the kitchen. It is then that she hears glass clinking against glass, and she knows where Damon is. She should've known, she thinks ruefully. He always did temper his emotions with obscene amounts of liquor. "Damon?" she murmurs, slightly louder.

Another clang of glass is her answer, followed shortly by, "In here, 'Lena."

She only just manages not to run, walking quickly toward the sound of his voice. He's standing alone beside a drink cart. "Why are you alone in the dark?" she stage-whispers.

"Klaus and I were… talking. He went out to feed a little while ago." He looks up. His face is slightly haunted. "You should be asleep."

"You're upset," she breathes.

"Nope," he pops the 'p' on the end as he looks back at the drink in his hand. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

He swallows twice before he sets down his glass. "You," he murmurs, turning back to face her. "Elena, I," he takes her face into his hands gently, soothing his thumbs down her face, "I love you."

She smiles, "I know."

"There's something we should talk about, though. About earlier, I-"

"Damon," she cuts him off. There's something off about the feel of his skin. Something _cold._ She pulls his hands away from her face. A loud pounding at the door distracts them, however.

"Who the hell-?" Damon pulls his hands free of her grasp before she can get a proper look at them in the dark. He moves to answer the door, barking, "Stay there," as he goes.

The door opens to reveal Stefan, standing in the pale, dim light of the moon. "Brother?" Damon hisses. "What the hell are you doing here? If Klaus-"

"I waited for him to leave," Stefan says quickly. "Get Elena, and come on; we're leaving."

"Stefan, what did you-" his question is interrupted by a quick inhale of breath. A fire reignites in his head. He grips each side of his head just before he drops to the floor. Elena rushes to him, fear gnawing at her. "Stefan! What's going on?" She reaches for Damon's hand, and notices what she missed just moments earlier. The dreaded grey veins that spell a vampire's death are beginning to form on each of his fingers, the very tips frigidly cold in Elena's grasp.

"Damon!" Elena panics. "Stefan, he's starting to desiccate! Do something!"

Stefan, horrified, blurs to where he knows Bonnie is hidden among the trees that surround the large estate. Quickly, he rounds on her, getting as close as the salt and spelled circle allows. Bonnie is lost in her spell, chanting with her eyes closed. "Bonnie, stop! You're killing him!"

"He's … fighting me…"

"What?" Stefan gasps. "Why? It doesn't matter! Stop the spell! You're killing him!"

"Stefan," she gasps between chants. "He's fighting… to keep the bond with Klaus. Talk him out of it."

Stefan blanches, turning back to return to Elena. He's panicked now, wondering, for perhaps the hundredth time this week, if all of this is a mistake and he's losing his brother by his own second-handed doing.

Breathless and uncertain, he stands once again at the threshold. "Talk to him, Elena. Tell him to stop fighting us. He's panicking. You have to calm him down." He rushes forward to drop beside his brother. "Damon," he murmurs, in addition to the soft coo of Elena's voice. "It's alright. Bonnie's trying to help." The empty grey veins creeping their way up his arm from his hand, however, don't stop their progress.

"Stefan," gasps Elena, "I have an idea." Stefan tears his eyes away from Damon's face for a moment to meet her eyes. "You could enter his mind, couldn't you? And make a dream for him?" Stefan nods and raises an eyebrow. "Could you… take me into the dream with you? I thought… maybe I could calm him down, distract him."

Stefan frowns, but nods again, saying determinedly, "I can try. I'll try. Hold my hand, and one of Damon's."

Elena grips Stefan's right hand and Damon's left, while Stefan grips the side of Damon's head with his free hand. Stefan's eyes fall closed as he focuses on entering Damon's unconsciousness. He isn't met with much resistance, which he attributes to the spell and Bonnie's assault on his mind, and he manages to drag Elena with him. All around them, a pseudo dream manifests. Damon isn't immediately visible to them, but in a moment, he is suddenly- there. "What's going on? I thought… Where are we?"

Elena steps toward Damon, extending her hands to him tentatively, as though she fears he might disappear. "Damon," she whispers. "I want you to come with me," her fingers curl gently, intertwining with his, "okay?"

"O...kay," he agrees with some hesitation. "Where?"

"What is your favorite memory?" she asks in lieu of an answer.

Before Damon can answer, their surroundings tremble and shake before going still again. They glance at each other, before Elena repeats her question. Damon looks slightly concerned, but seems to consider this. Damon finally squeezes Elena's hand, his eyes softening as they focus in on her. "What's going on, 'Lena?" His eyes search hers, flickering from left to right and back again. "Something's wrong. Am I…" he glances around, "dreaming?"

"No," Elena says quickly, and at the same moment that Stefan says, "Yes," So Elena amends, "Not exactly."

Their world rumbles again, and this time, Damon stumbles, and Stefan steps forward to steady him. "Stefan," Damon growls, irritated. "What's happening to me? What are you two trying to distract me from?"

Stefan smiles sadly. "Well, if you're not going to play along, you'll just have to sit through one of _my_ favorites."

The scene around them changes, rippling like water's surface after it has been disturbed. Then colors solidify until a picture forms. Deep green trees provide the backdrop for the bleached white front of the magnificent Salvatore estate, before it burned down. Damon is wearing his confederate uniform, his curls gently crushed beneath his hat. There's a worn leather football in his hands as he grins in his younger brother's direction. The present version of Damon standing before them smirks gently at the memory, saying lightly, "The day I taught you how to play football," the upturn of his lips slips slightly. "Too bad Katherine ruined us shortly thereafter."

Stefan shakes his head, "Don't think about that."

Damon's smile falls off his face. "Then tell me what's going on!"

Elena tries, this time, before Stefan can answer. She takes Damon's face in one hand and Stefan's hand in the other. "How about this one, then?" she whispers with a gentle smile.

The scene fades again, and the bright sunlight of the first memory darkens to the soft, dim light of a bedside table. Damon, pale and sweaty, lies prone on his large master bed. Elena sits beside him, clasping his hand tightly and leaning in closer to the dying vampire. Damon begins to argue, that this isn't even close to the top of the rhetorical list of memories he's most fond of, but then he hears memory-Elena's whisper of, " _I like you now… Just the way you are…"_ And then, she's kissing him, and Damon understands why she's showing him this.

Before Damon can speak, the memory is replaced a third time, this time the low lighting is in Stefan's bedroom, and Elena is standing before a full-length mirror off to the right in a cute, flowy, white dress. "This is the night I knew…" she trails off with a fond smile, watching the scene unfold. Her eighteenth birthday party. It seemed so long ago now.

" _I got you something,"_ Memory Damon murmurs, pulling a box from his pocket.

It's her necklace, the one Stefan had first given her. Thinking back on it now, she can only stand in awe of the lengths Damon went to just to see her happy. She clears her throat, feeling anxious and emotional, "This was the night I realized I loved you…"

Damon blinks, moving his eyes from the memory back to the girl standing before him. "The night you…" he sounds a bit breathless.

Elena glances at Stefan, murmurs an apology with sad eyes before nodding to Damon and watching the scene fade back to Stefan's generic backdrop of the Boarding House living room. "Your turn," she tells Damon gently.

Damon appraises her for a few silent moments, before the Boarding House behind them trembles. Damon gasps slightly, falling to the left before Stefan catches and steadies him. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

Stefan flinches, and Elena rushes forward, gripping whatever piece of his clothing she can reach. "No," she tells him firmly. "Tell us your favorite memory."

"If I _am_ dying," he says quietly, "There's one memory I'd like you to see." They are surrounded by the soft glow of Elena's bedroom lamp. Damon sits quietly on her window seat. After a moment, Elena returns from the bathroom, dressed in blue night shorts and a tank top. She looks surprised to see him.

"But this," Elena gasps. "This is the night you two save me from Elijah, the night I got my necklace back-"

The memory begins to fade out, the sound muting. Confused, Elena and Stefan look back to Damon. His eyes fall closed. "I'm… Why am I so… tired?"

"Damon," Stefan says, tugging the shirt at his shoulders. "No. You have to try to stay with us, Damon."

His smile is faint and sad, "So it's true, then?" He takes a deep breath. "I'm dying? I can't remember what happened, for some reason. It was a werewolf again, wasn't it?"

"No," Elena whispers. "Not a werewolf. We're trying to save you."

Damon's eyes flutter, but remain resolutely open. "You're not in danger, though?"

"No," she whispers. "We're all fine."

The memory picks back up again with Damon's slightly echoed murmur of, " _Cute pjs."_

" _I'm tired, Damon,"_ Elena hears herself say, though she can't remember this part of this particular night.

She watches carefully, eyes widening. _"I don't deserve you… But my brother does."_ "Oh, Damon," she whispers, unable to blink as the memory she can't recall unfolds all around her.

Elena turns back to him when the memory is over. Damon's slouched against his brother, Stefan baring the brunt of his weight. He's trembling, his breathing uneven. "Damon!"

"Tell me now," Damon whispers. "Why am I desiccating?" He sounds genuinely curious as he eyes his fingertips.

"It's the spell," Elena breathes, tears streaming down her face. "Bonnie's spell. She's trying to break you away from Klaus's bond."

Damon's eyes flicker open. "Tell her to stop."

"What?"

Damon shoves away from his brother, though he's unsteady on his feet. "You have to go- both of you! Make her stop."

Stefan looks afraid, "Damon, what-"

"He linked us somehow, Stefan! Klaus, he-" Damon stop abruptly. He holds one arm out in front of him, pulling up his sleeve. The grey continues up further underneath his shirt. "He tied my life to the blood bond. His witch did some ritual. If Bonnie unlinks us, then I'll…"

"You'll die…" Stefan breathes.

"But the spell is almost complete!" Elena's panic renews. "Stefan-!"

"I know, Elena. We have to go. We'll fix this, Damon. Just- hang on, brother, alright?"

Damon nods, but his legs give way beneath him just as Stefan is pulling himself and Elena out of Damon's mind.

…

 _ **A/N:**_ _Thank you very much, readers and reviewers. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm not loving this chapter, please let me know if you did. Until next time… :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_This chapter took waaaaay longer than I meant it to. I apologize! Enjoy..._

 _ **A/N**_ _: I make no money off this story. The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me; rights belong to the CW, LJ Smith, Julie Plec, and any other original owners.  
I have no beta, and I wrote this on my phone, so please be forgiving about the minor errors. Please review and enjoy._

 _ **Chapter Seven: What Is Left**_

" _I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all." -Three Days Grace_

 _ **Previously…**_ " _Tell me now," Damon whispers. "Why am I desiccating?" He sounds genuinely curious as he eyes his greying fingertips._

" _It's the spell," Elena breathes, tears streaming down her face. "Bonnie's spell. She's trying to break you away from Klaus's bond."_

 _Damon's eyes flicker open. "Tell her to stop."_

" _What?"_

 _Damon shoves away from his brother, though he's unsteady on his feet. "You have to go- both of you! Make her stop."_

 _Stefan looks afraid, "Damon, what-"_

" _He linked us somehow, Stefan! Klaus, he-" Damon stop abruptly. He holds one arm out in front of him, pulling up his sleeve. The grey continues up further underneath his shirt. "He tied my life to the blood bond. His witch did some ritual. If Bonnie unlinks us, I'll…"_

" _You'll die…" Stefan breathes._

" _But the spell is almost complete!" Elena's panic renews. "Stefan-!"_

" _I know, Elena. We have to go. We'll fix this, Damon. Just- hang on, brother, alright?"_

 _Damon nods, but his legs give way beneath him just as Stefan is pulling himself and Elena out of Damon's mind._

...

Opening his eyes again, Stefan jumps to his feet, running back outside, toward the witch hidden just beyond the treeline, "Bonnie! Stop!" He yells.

Elena stays beside Damon, gripping his hand, feeling tears beginning to over-fill her eyes. She whispers to him, words that she won't remember exactly later, words of mostly empty platitudes meant to make one of them feel better. She doesn't think it actually helps.

Stefan reaches the witch, skids to a stop. "Bonnie," he gasps, reaching to try to shake her shoulder, "You're killing Damon! Klaus linked them somehow-!" The boundaries of her spell prevents him from touching her.

Bonnie shakes her head, staying quiet for a long moment, before murmuring, "No, Stefan. I won't stop. Elena's freedom is worth more than Damon's life. She won't be tied to Klaus anymore if Damon is free…" she adds in a quiet whisper, " _or_ if he's dead."

Stefan stumbles, "Bonnie- what?"

"I'm sorry, Stefan," she says between chanting. "I'll try my best to break through the linked spell without killing him first, but my priority will always be Elena."

Stefan's stomachs plummets further as he picks up tires rolling quickly over gravel. It turns out to be their friends, finished with the perimeter check. He glances back at Bonnie as Ric, Jeremy and Caroline hurry from the car left hidden in the brush not far from where he stands near Bonnie. "Ric," he says quietly, laying a hand on the teacher's shoulder, "I need you to get Elena out of here. She won't want to leave Damon, but Klaus will be back soon. Especially when his hybrids notice we're here."

Ric nods, "Caroline, Jeremy, and I dealt with a few of them, but I'm sure there are more." He glances at his friend, lying prone a few hundred yards away, just inside the mansion's doorway. "I'll get Elena someplace safe." He pauses. "But Damon-"

"I'll take care of Damon," Stefan says grimly.

When Stefan and Ric reach Elena and Damon, no one speaks for long seconds. Stefan is detachedly considering the consequences of killing Bonnie to save Damon. And the fallout of letting Damon go. Their lives are always like this now; someone's life always hangs in the balance and there are no good options.

"Elena," Ric says quietly. "Can you…" he trails off, looking helplessly at Stefan when Elena doesn't even look up. She doesn't cease her whispered words to Damon, either.

Stefan, fortunately, doesn't have to weigh his options for long.

"I've broken through, Stefan," Bonnie calls tiredly.

Stefan turns back to eye her carefully. She looks completely spent already. Jeremy is standing near her, with Caroline just off to his left. They look worried. Bonnie's nose is beginning to bleed."I can break the bond without killing him now, but," she breaks off for a moment, inhaling deeply and redoubling her focus. "I'm too exhausted to be gentle about it. I need you to buy me a few more minutes."

Stefan nods gratefully, but he's worries. Klaus will, in every likelihood, arrive any moment now.

Damon's eyes open, but they're hazy. Elena is slightly afraid of how he will react because the veins beneath his eyes squirm just below the surface of his pale skin, and he doesn't seem to know where he is now. Pain is ratcheting up behind his eyes as he tries to focus. Elena reaches for Damon, relieved that he's alive, that Bonnie has broken through the first spell. The vampire flinches away from her before she can touch him. "Don't, Elena." He stumbles to his feet, tries to put some distance between them.

She looks confused, worried, "Damon, it's _me_. It's al-," she reaches for him again.

"Don't touch me," he whispers.

"Damon, what-?"

"Just go, Elena!" He grips his head with both hands, looking pained and angry. "Get away from me! I- please!" The dark veins of _hunger_ are vibrant now and slithering furiously, high on his cheekbones.

Ric and Stefan assess the situation carefully, waiting to intervene if necessary. Stefan takes a few steps toward them.

"Let me help you," she pleads quietly.

"Get- get away from me before I-" his voice breaks off on a muted scream. Blood begins to drip from his ears, trickling slowly down each side of his head. "Leave! Now!"

As Stefan reaches for Elena, tugs at her arm. "Go, Elena; I'll help him. You need to be somewhere safe." He glances behind them, catches Ric's eye. "Go with Ric. Hurry! I'll help Damon."

Elena is hesitant to leave Damon, but she listens to the brothers when Stefan adds, "I promise," and she runs, stumbling once, toward Alaric. Stefan watches her and Ric turn toward the direction of his suv, Elena glancing back over her shoulder every few seconds, before shifting his full attention back to Damon. He's swaying unsteadily on his feet, his fingertips digging into his head, sounds of agony falling from his tongue. Bonnie's chanting grows slightly louder.

Stefan grabs each side of his brother's head, yells something Damon can't quite manage to understand through his pain, but then the world around them goes silent. Stefan feels his exhaustion ramp up another few notches as he enters his brother's head for the second time that hour. He's beginning to wear thin, especially as he hasn't fed in too long. Getting into Damon's head this time is more difficult because he's conscious, but that's countered by not having to bring Elena with him, so he manages. Damon's sounds of torment break off abruptly as he gives in to Stefan's influence. The brothers nearly fall over as they enter the dream world Stefan has built, both pushed past their limits, but Stefan somehow manages to keep them both vertical while holding sway over the dream.

Carefully, he begins choosing memories of their childhood, the happier, more carefree moments of their mortal lives. The scenes flicker quickly over top of one another in Stefan's desperate attempt to distract Damon from his acute distress. It seems to be working. Damon still grips his head, still has his teeth clenched, but his eyes have opened and his expression has relaxed somewhat. He even manages a wane smile as the day he taught a young Stefan to ride a horse flickers around them. The picture isn't as clear as it had been earlier, the memory looks oddly distorted and fuzzy in Stefan's weariness.

"Stef," he says, breathless and so, so tired. "Dammit, just let me go."

Stefan sighs with a gentle smile, "You know I can't do that."

Damon's eyes are closing against his will. "Yes," he gasps. "Just walk away. Leave me here." He sighs in relief as, somehow, the pain has eased up. Perhaps it can't reach him with Stefan so far into his mind. "Just let me go. Say goodbye, brother."

"No. Not now, Damon, not when I've only just gotten _my brother_ back."

Damon smiles, really smiles at his brother, though it is tired and worn, for what feels like first time since he was human. "That's why you have to let go now. You found me. You saved me. Now, just-" But Damon doesn't get a chance to finish trying to convince his brother.

Stefan cries out, the memories crashing down all around them as he is pulled violently from Damon's mind by the searing pain in his back, in his chest. Someone is screaming. He opens his eyes to realize he's been staked from behind. The wood scrapes dangerously against his heart. He gasps, pain igniting his spent nerve endings.

Damon's pain redoubles as reality slams back into him. His mind is overwhelmed entirely by different wills not his own, by sheer agony, and suddenly by rage and fear for his brother. Klaus stands behind him, a long stake protruding from Stefan's chest. It takes an impossible effort to not only keep his feet beneath him and get his eyesight to focus on his brother and Klaus.

"I should've killed you _months_ ago," the Original hisses to Stefan. "Perhaps I'll enjoy this," he chuckles darkly. "Can you feel it, old friend?" he adjusts his hand so the wood scrapes painfully against the imperative organ in Stefan's chest again. "Just a slight flick to the left, and you'll have finally sacrificed _everything you have_ for your selfish, worthless brother."

Ric uses the opportunity of Klaus's distraction to maneuver Elena to safety. She won't budge, "I can't leave them, Ric!" she hisses. Having no other options, he motions to Caroline and Jeremy, who have been watching the entire scene with quiet dread. They don't hesitate to hustle over to where the history stands struggling.

"I'm sorry, Elena," he murmurs, thrusting her into the blonde vampire's arms. "Take her home, Klaus hasn't been invited in." He closes Jeremy's fingers around his car keys with a shake of his head. "On second thought," he adds in an even softer whisper, "Take to my loft. Klaus won't think to look for there right away. Hurry up," he adds unnecessarily, glancing back over at Klaus and the Salvatore brothers, the three of them caught up entirely in their own drama.

Caroline speeds Elena to the back seat of the truck, forcing her in without letting her go while Jeremy climbs into the driver seat. Ric swallows thickly, hoping and praying fervently that Klaus won't notice the spin on the tires as Jeremy peels away. He stands still, quiet, in the shrubbery and watches. He knows he should help, wishes he knew how, but he's no match for two vampires and a hybrid.

"Let him go, Klaus," Damon growls, all at once frustrated by how weak he sounds, by just how many people have uttered those exact words to the Original these past weeks. Damon takes pointed steps forward, intending to forcibly remove Klaus from his brother if he must.

"Ah, ah," Klaus warns. "I'll kill him, Damon. But go ahead, take another step. After all I've done for you, mate. This is how you repay me?" he roars.

Damon stands still, anger coursing over his expression, his blue eyes nearly black with rage and hate. "What do you want?"

Klaus throws his head back and laughs, "What do _I_ want?!" His vengeful eyes meet Damon's again. "All I've wanted this entire time! My doppelganger and her dutiful protector. But all you've managed to be is an incredible thorn in my side. You've worn out all usefulness, I'm afraid. I _was_ going to order you to thrust a stake through your own chest, but your little witch has been fighting me, as you may have noticed. She's stronger than I gave her credit for, unfortunately for you."

Damon winces as his head pounds particularly hard, as though reiterating Klaus's words. His vision swirls for a moment; a fresh drip of warm blood slides down the side of his face and splashes the shoulder of his shirt. "So then kill me and let Stefan go," Damon snaps, coming to the quick realization that unconsciousness isn't far off now. He needs to hurry if he's going to change anything.

"I would, but you see, Stefan is the reason we all stand here now. I don't _have_ to kill him." He pauses, then, "I _want_ to _."_ The stake scrapes against his heart again. "No one crosses me _repeatedly_ and lives to tell about it, Damon; _no one._ " He growls, "However, I think perhaps I have a greater punishment in mind than simply killing him." He shoves Stefan forward, off his stake, into Damon's waiting arms.

Damon stumbles under the new weight, nearly collapses before Stefan finds his feet. He's panting; he desperately needs to feed. Darkness lurks at the edges of his vision. His muscles tremble under just the strain of remaining vertical. "You alright?" He asks Stefan without looking away from Klaus. Stefan nods, breathless, and turns around so his back is to Damon instead. Whether he's protecting himself or Damon by doing this, he doesn't know.

The Original moves forward in a blur to stand in front of Stefan, tossing away the bloodied stake carelessly. It lands at Damon's feet. "He won't be for long. Stefan," Klaus catches Stefan's eyes with his own as he grips the much younger vampire's shoulders. He forces his entire will into this compulsion. "You will kill Damon, with your own hands. You will not stop until his heart lays on the ground at your feet."

"No!" Ric protests from his position, and Damon isn't quite sure if his frantic protest is more for his own benefit or Stefan's. Killing him will ruin Stefan. Of this, Damon is entirely positive.

Stefan frowns, his fingers curling into fists. "N… no." He says, eyes wide and afraid.

Klaus growls, forcing up Stefan's chin up viciously until they're eye to eye again. The Original assaults Stefan's mind with every ounce of furious compulsion at his disposal as he roars, "Kill Damon. NOW!" He shoves Stefan backwards, towards his brother.

Stefan stumbles and loses his footing. He drops heavily to seated, dread and horror filling him as he feels Klaus's compulsion twisting and churning inside of him. He's too weak to effectively disobey, if perhaps he ever could have. Still, the exhaustion behind his eyes is mounting, and he wonders, briefly, if might just blackout before he can complete the order. Against his will and to his complete horror, he finds himself climbing back to his feet, his eyes falling upon Damon. He turns and surges forward with what must be the last ounces of energy he has left, his drained body running directly into his brother's. Gripping Damon's shoulder with his free hand, he steadies himself, gasping out, "Run, _please_."

Damon smirks crookedly. "No point, really." Stefan can see the exhaustion and pain etched into the pale contours of his brother's face vividly even in the dim light around them. "Wouldn't get far."

Against his will, Stefan's hand plunges into Damon's chest cavity, earning him a breathy gasp of pain. Damon's legs give way beneath him, causing both brother's to slump to the ground. As they land, Stefan's hand breaks free from Damon. Damon's fingers fumble and curl around the stake laying beside him. He doesn't want to kill his brother, of course, but he's well versed in the clarity pain provides. He aims the stake at Stefan's stomach, but his exhaustion and lack of coordination thanks to his dwindling eyesight cause the stake to plunge into Stefan's thigh.

He gasps out a shaky laugh, slightly startled by the pain, but he leaves the damned thing embedded right where it is, because, in that moment, all he can see is his brother when they were just children. He can feel the compulsion tugging at the tendons in his hands, but he can fight this. He _has to_ fight this. This is Damon. _Damon._ And if he kills him now, nothing will ever be okay again. He blurs to his feet and decides to put as much distance between himself and Damon before he can no longer fight off the compulsion.

Ric, stunned, watches Stefan disappear at the same moment Bonnie collapses. He has a decision to make, as Klaus rounds on Damon with an evil smirk. He decides to grab Bonnie and run, his weak argument in his mind that Damon is 175 years old and Bonnie hasn't even graduated high school yet. Fortunately for them both, Bonnie's keys dangle from the ignition of her empty vehicle. He guns the engine and tries not to think about anything at all.

The world around Damon is hazy and tilted. He wonders briefly what exactly he missed. Perhaps he blacked out for a while? One minute, Stefan was _literally_ holding his heart in his hand, and then the next, his brother, Ric- hell, even the witch, are just _gone_. He's alone.

Well, except the vengeful Original standing over him.

Klaus roars in anger, exacerbated by the fact that he can't feel the bond with Damon any longer, landing several vicious, blurred kicks into Damon's ribs. The vampire slumps on the ground, winces as the bones snap and splinter. The Original watches with detached rage as the vampire's body at his feet begins to curl in on itself. Damon sighs and his face slackens as finally, _finally,_ he feels himself slipping into blissful unconsciousness. However, Klaus has sensed it, too. Just before Damon's eyes slide closed completely, Klaus kneels to compel him. His pupils dilate just before Damon's do in response. "No, no, mate," he says with a disappointed frown. "You don't get an easy way out of this. You cannot pass out until I allow you to."

Damon frowns, severe drowsiness affecting his expression. "No fucking way," he sighs. " _Really_?"

Klaus laughs, rising from his knelt position beside Damon. "Yes," he replies, glancing around. "You would do well to remember exactly what I'm capable of, Damon. You could've had a very powerful friend at your side. Now, however, it seems you wish only for an almighty enemy instead." He looks back at the vampire who hasn't bothered to get up off the ground yet. "Seems as though Stefan and your merry band of misfits have _conveniently_ disappeared, including the witch. All of whom I'm supposing decided that, because they got back Elena, you just weren't worth the trouble anymore." He chuckles. "I notice the bond has been broken. However, ironically for you, I can still compel you." He squats down to better look into Damon's eyes.

"Tell me truthfully," he says quietly. "My saving your life repeatedly meant so little?"

Damon coughs gently, his ribs still in far more pieces than they ought to be. He allows his eyes to fall closed heavily, though he retains his consciousness. "No," he says finally, resigned. "It didn't mean 'so little'. I didn't know what Stefan had planned or that he'd show up here tonight." His breath wheezes through his punctured lung. His eyes open again, a fire burning brightly in them despite his exhaustion. "Come on, though, Klaus. Like you wouldn't do the same for Elijah? Stefan's my brother. I'm his only remaining family." Breathing is difficult, speaking complete sentences is harder. "Surely, you can understand what it's like to have your family taken away from you?"

Klaus looks away, thinking intently. His anger is fading just slightly. "Hmm, that is an interesting theory." Klaus sinks one fang into his forefinger and places it to Damon's mouth. The vampire swallows twice before the wound closes again. "That should be enough to tide you over until I decide what to do with you."

Damon winces as his ribs begin to snap back into place. He sighs and rolls his eyes skyward as Klaus hauls him back to his feet.

…

Elena is screaming at him. Stefan feels as though he absolutely deserves every single ounce of her ire. " _You left him there?!_ " it's lost somewhere between a screech and a sob. And it exactly mirrors what he's been screaming silently to himself since he did.

"I had no choice, Elena," he breathes, his quiet voice a sharp contrast to hers.

"He's dead! You know that, don't you? Klaus surely killed him."

He understands her fury, her heartache. Because it fills every empty space within him. He wants to be gentle and understanding with her. He wants to allow her to yell and rage at him. However, he can't help biting out, "And if I wouldn't have left, _I_ would have _."_

She dissolves into fresh sobs again, and Stefan doesn't need the reproachful look Caroline gives him for his lack of tact as she shushes Elena and guides her toward Alaric's bedroom. Alaric is nearby, watching in silence until the girls have disappeared. He's laid Bonnie on his couch, allowing Jeremy to take over keeping watch of her. He can't stay here. "I'm going after him," he tells Stefan in lieu of a goodbye.

"And you'll die, too," the vampire murmurs from his place, vervained and chained to the leather recliner.

"Maybe," he agrees. "But at least then Damon won't die alone," and he's gone before Stefan can bother with a reply. As if anything either of them can say now will change a damned thing.

…

After Elena screamed her heartache and fear at Stefan in the form of anger, she allows her blonde childhood friend to lead her away and onto the bed. She drops wearily to the dark bedspread and buries her face into a pillow, while admitting to herself that her earlier fury at Stefan was unfair of her. She can't help it, though. She feels as if she's losing her mind. Her tears and painful thoughts of Damon eventually fade into a fitful sleep while Caroline rubs soothing circles on her back. She wishes for a peaceful, restful sleep, free of dreams, but dream she does.

 _Klaus stands in front of Damon, his hand embedded deep within his chest cavity. Damon doesn't move, can't breathe. His devastating eyes plead with her._

" _Ah, Elena," the Original laughs. "You've arrived. Right on time. Now, I'd like you to watch. Watch as I_ rip out his heart. _"_

 _It's over in a second. She feels entirely numb as she watches Damon's heart drop to the floor with a sick, wet squelch._

 _The scene twists again. Though it's remarkably similar. This time, however, it's Stefan that stands in Klaus's place. As he kills his brother the same way Klaus did, he looks to Elena. "You did this us," he says mournfully. "You ruined us."_

 _All Elena can see is Damon's face, contorted slightly in pain as he dies._

Elena wakes from her dream with a gasp, only _just_ managing to swallow her scream. Her eyes flick around Alaric's room frantically before reality settles in once again. However relieved she may be that the nightmare was just that, she finds it does little to make her feel better. She breathes a deep sigh, rolls over in small but comfortable bed, and inhales deeply in an attempt to slow her pounding heart. The loft is quiet and dark. Caroline is gone, so she pads softly back into the living area where she finds Bonnie and Jeremy asleep on the couch. Stefan is gone, too, and Ric is nowhere to be found. Frowning, and irritated that she's been left out of the loop _again_ , she returns to find her phone from where it's charging.

It's pale light blinks weakly, indicating a text she's yet to read. She unplugs it with entirely more force than necessary and sinks back onto the bed. The texts are from Caroline, explaining Stefan's wishes to be locked in the Boarding House cellar, and that she accompanied him to be sure he made it without incident. She goes to say that Elena shouldn't worry, that everything will be fine until morning, so she should sleep, _rest_.

Sleep is long in coming for her, though, the nightmare and reality weighing heavily on her mind. At some point, her phone vibrates gently in her lax grip. She hurries to turn the screen back on with trembling fingers, suddenly hopeful that somehow the message is from Damon. She's disappointed, as it is quickly apparent that isn't from him.

 _Don't make any travel plans, love. Damon will be around in the morning to collect a donation. Don't forget you've all done this to yourselves. It didn't have to be this way. Sweet dreams, sweetheart._

…

The Salvatore house is quiet, though it occasionally creaks gently in the wind outside. Caroline told him she would stay, just to make sure, but she was exhausted as they all were, and she chose a guest bedroom to sleep in.

Stefan is dozing in his chains, the brick of the wall digging uncomfortably into his back when the cellar door slams open. The force reverberates through the house and jerks him roughly from his tired haze. He looks up to find the Original Hybrid himself standing before him. "Klaus," he sighs wearily in greeting. "Come to gloat, have you?"

Klaus smirks darkly. "Not exactly." He kneels down in front of Stefan. "I came by to remove your compulsion, as I've changed my mind about your brother's usefulness to me." He chuckles as his pupils dilate. Stefan can feel the heavy weight left from his chest as the compulsion is broken. As Klaus rises back to his feet he adds, "Your brother is beyond your help now anyway, mate."

"What have you done to him, Klaus?" he growls.

...

Ric creeps stealthily through a back window of Klaus's mansion. He is always slightly irritated by vampires' constant underestimation of what humans are capable of. Though he's forced to take out two hybrids, he's admittedly relieved to find Klaus is gone. Damon, however, is there. Ric finds him in his room, gazing into an empty fireplace. "Damon?" he murmurs. "You alright?"

Damon whips around, his face completely void of any kind of emotion. "You shouldn't have come here, Ric." He says. The other can't help but notice that something is _off_ about the vampire's tone. But he has Ric against the wall by his throat before he can decide exactly what.

Stunned, Alaric manages to choke out, " _Damon_." The grip tightens dangerously. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

...

Klaus chuckles, tilting his head at Stefan slightly as he considers him. "Oh, he's in excellent health, if that's what you're worried about," Klaus says with a crooked smirk. "Even back on human blood. As _much_ as he desires, in fact. The _fun_ is just getting started, mate." He turns to leave the way he came. Pausing at the threshold, he says, "Tell me, Stefan, what's your brother like without his humanity?"

…

 _ **A/N:**_ _This story has gone far from where I intended to steer it when I began. However, I think I'll run with it. Please let me know if you're still enjoying it, or if you rather I'd have taken a left at Albuquerque 5 chapters ago. ;) Thank you for all the reads and reviews! They mean very much to me._


	8. Chapter 8

_This chapter also took waaaaay longer than I meant it to. My muse deserted me. I apologize!_

 _In an attempt to make amends, I've tried to make this chapter as interesting as possible. As always, I cherish your lovely feedback and love hearing from you. Enjoy..._

 _ **A/N**_ _: I make no money off this story. The Vampire Diaries does not belong to me; rights belong to the CW, LJ Smith, Julie Plec, and any other original owners.  
I have no beta, and I wrote this on my phone, so please be forgiving about the minor errors. Please review and enjoy._

 _ **Chapter Eight: What Becomes Us**_

 _"Love left me hollow. I'm with you in the end. Cold, crippled, and shallow. Don't leave me here again. I can't go on; you're bound to break me in." -Breaking Benjamin_

 _ **Previously… "**_ _Damon... What the hell is wrong with you?"_

 _..._

 _Klaus chuckles, tilting his head at Stefan slightly as he considers him. "Oh, your brother is in excellent health, if that's what you're worried about," Klaus says with a crooked smirk. "Even back on human blood. As much as he desires, in fact. The_ fun _is just getting started, mate." He turns to leave the way he came. Pausing at the threshold, he says, "Tell me, Stefan, what's your brother like without his humanity?"_

…

He'd forgotten exactly what it's like. Flipping the switch. It is _glorious_. Damon doesn't have to feel guilty, or lonely, or angry. He doesn't have to torture himself with thoughts of the girl he loved, but wouldn't ever be good enough for. He doesn't need a purpose beside the blood and obtaining as much as he desires. For hours, Klaus had debated back and forth, until finally making the decision and compelling Damon's humanity away. Detachedly, Damon thinks it was rather cowardly of the Original. He isn't complaining now, though.

The world is finally quiet again. The first thing he really appreciates is how silent the silence is again. _Finally_. He no longer hears echoes of Klaus's last command replaying quietly in the back of his mind. He can sit, in the large and expensive armchair in his bedroom, with nothing but the crackling of flames and clinking of glass on glass to disrupt the quietness. _Without wishing he could give himself a lobotomy_. The room still smells faintly of blood, as he hasn't bothered to clean up what little of Ric's blood he wasn't careful enough in drinking. His friend lies in heap by the fireplace; his heartbeat still lacking. Thanks to that awfully gaudy ring, he'll be coming back around any time now. After weeks spent consuming nothing but Klaus's blood, Damon admits, he's gone a bit overboard in indulging himself.  
It's as though there is a line drawn between who he was yesterday and who he is now that Klaus compelled away his humanity. He fully understands the consequences of not feeling, and he knows full well that he should turn it back on. It's just... well, he doesn't care. Everything is so simple now. He doesn't have to pine after Elena; he doesn't have to feel lonely or second-best; he doesn't have to feel guilty about the pile of bloodless victims he's eaten his way through in the past few hours. All he has to concern himself with is finding another new bottle of expensive bourbon when this one is empty. Though he does briefly entertain the pros and cons of turning Ric into a vampire, sending him away, or just killing him and washing his hands of all of it.  
In the end, though, he doesn't have a chance to make a concise decision about his friend, for Klaus has entered the room. The Original considers the scene before him for a moment, leaning against the doorframe. He frowns at Damon's latest body count littering the floor of his room. "You know, when I told you to help yourself, I had expected you to have a bit more restraint than this."  
Damon scoffs. "I'm sure one of your little minions can clean up the mess."  
Klaus closes his eyes for a moment before looking back to Damon. "I require you to obtain a blood donation from Elena. Sooner, preferably, than later."  
Damon sighs and leans further back into his chair. "I don't have to be your little puppet anymore, Klaus."  
The Original has Damon pressed back by his throat before he can blink. Still, the show of power fails to force Damon's smirk from his face. "I could still kill you," he growls, "And your pathetic brother. Don't test me." Damon rolls his eyes, unimpressed. "However, if you do this for me, I will let you in on a little... treat that I've been working on." He releases the other's throat slowly, leaning forward to murmur in Damon's ear, his fingers deceptively gently caressing the skin of his throat as they move away, "You can have the honor of helping me destroy everything our lovely Katerina holds dear."  
Klaus straightens, running his hands down his shirt to flatten any wrinkles. "Does that satisfy your desire for compensation?"  
Damon watches him for a while, considers this offer. "You know where she is?"  
"All in good time, mate."  
Intrigued by this prospect, Damon considers this long after he watches Klaus leave. His cool skin still lingering heat where the Original had touched him. Destroy the bitch that single-handedly ruined his life? He'd do a hell of a lot more than collect a little blood for that privilege. He smirks, rising to his feet. He downs the last of his bourbon, grabs his car keys, and sweeps from the room without so much as a backward glance.

The Boarding House looms in front of Damon. It was once a welcomed sight of home, of his glorious bed, of Elena... Now, though... There's very little left for him here. He raps his knuckles against the heavy, old door. He isn't surprised when Stefan appears, looking haggard and worried.  
"Damon," he says with surprise coloring his tone, taking a step toward his brother, who leans languidly against the stone door frame.  
"Hello, Stefan," he replies with a small smirk, pushing off to stand casually. "Is our girlfriend home?"  
Stefan flinches. "It's true, then?" He murmurs.  
"Hmm?" Damon asks, though he seems rather uninterested.  
"Klaus said you... that your humanity was gone."  
Damon smiles, "Why would Klaus lie to you?"  
"Where's Alaric?" The younger brother asks in lieu of an answer.  
Damon chuckles at this, "In a heap on my carpet." He shrugs. "Oh, unclench, baby bro. He has that nifty magic ring."  
"Damon," Stefan begins, his tone pleading.  
The light, joking smile drops from Damon's face in an instant. "Don't. You don't get to do that to me anymore. No more guilt trips; I don't have to care anymore." He closes the small gap between them so that they are eye to eye. "You ran, Stefan. I told you to let me go, and you did. Klaus could've killed me," Damon pushes past Stefan, his serious tone evaporating all at once. "But he didn't. So you should be thankful, brother." He's looking bored again. "Anyway, is she here?"  
Stefan doesn't turn around. His shoulders tremble just slightly. "No," he says eventually. "She isn't here. Elena isn't... extremely pleased with me, at the moment." He sighs heavily. "She thinks it's my fault; your lack of humanity."  
"Sort of is, though, isn't it?" Damon chuckles gently as he heads toward the drink cart. "Haven't finished off all my good bourbon, have you?"  
"No," the reply is off-handed and quiet.  
"Am I making you uncomfortable?"  
Stefan doesn't reply this time. He closes the door but doesn't join Damon in the sitting room.  
"Speaking of women we both used to love, have you heard from our least favorite doppelganger lately?"  
Stefan's head lifts at this. "Why would Katherine be in contact with me?"  
Damon shrugs, "Curiosity and all," he waves one hand around airly as he pours a generous drink with the other. "You always _were_ her favorite."  
The younger Salvatore shakes his head but still doesn't look in the direction of his brother. "I haven't heard from her. Not since your failed Homecoming plan."  
"Well," Damon says after finishing off the thick, amber drink in his tumbler. "It's been fun, Stef, but I have a few doppelgangers to track down."  
"A few?" Stefan sounds incredulous as Damon brushes past him again, this time headed out.  
"Just two, really, but then again, who's counting?"  
Stefan gazes at the door after Damon leaves, slamming it behind him. He slumps against the wall, feeling both helpless and guilty at the same time. The Damon who is his brother is gone again. And it's his fault. He has to do… _something_ to fix it.

The Gilbert house is as it always was, standing proudly amongst the other large, plantation-style homes and tidy lawns that surround it on either side. The front porch houses many memories that the vampire pointedly ignores. Damon frowns, but knocks against the front door. "Baby Gilbert," he greets as the door swings open.  
"She isn't here," Jeremy's tone is hard, but Damon detects something akin to a cord of fear underneath it. "You should leave," he adds.  
Damon gazes at the human before him for the space of a few of his breaths. Considers his next move carefully. "Thank the witch for me," he says as he turns away. Even without his humanity, he can't quite bring himself to end the only surviving Gilbert man. He tells himself it's because Bonnie the Good Witch would flambé his brain before he could possibly get gone. The door closes with a snap before he reaches the steps of the porch. Damon's footsteps halt when he hears whispers on just the other side of the door.  
"He turned it off?" Bonnie asks.  
"Yes."  
"How can you tell?" She says a bit louder. "He only said one sentence to you."  
"It's his eyes," Jeremy replies quietly, falling back against the door with a soft _thunk_. "It's like the lights are on, but Damon isn't home."  
There's a pause followed by a heavy sigh.  
"Why is he looking for Elena?"  
"I don't know. She thinks it's because of her blood. You know, the hybrid juice?" Jeremy chuckles, humorless.  
"But why is Damon still with Klaus?" Bonnie asks.  
"I don't know. Maybe he's mad at Stefan. Or maybe... maybe Klaus compelled him or something."  
"Maybe... Should we warn Elena?"  
"She already knows that Damon was sent after her, Klaus sent her a text last night, while we were at Ric's."  
 _Ric's loft. Of course_. Damon smirks again and flits off in a blur.

Ric's loft is dark and quiet when Damon pulls up. He parks in a vacant spot, and grabs the empty blood bags and accessories he needs for the blood draw. He's sure Elena is here, even though she's trying to make it appear as though she isn't. He's up the stairs in a flash. He doesn't bother knocking on his friend's door. He tries the handle, but it's locked. Because, yeah, that'll keep out an irritated vampire. For about half a second. "Elena," he calls out in his best sing-song voice. "Open up, won't you? Before Ric has to replace the doorknob."  
There's no answer from inside the apartment. He sighs theatrically before twisting the cheap metal in his hands until it snaps. He tosses it aside and kicks the door open with one booted foot. "Pity," he says, eyeing the ruined, once-doorknob thoughtfully. "This really isn't Ric's week." He pauses for a single moment then shakes his head. "Oh, come on, Elena, I can _hear_ you breathing. Honestly," he sighs, stalking across the small living room and opening the door to Ric's bedroom. "It's as though you forget who you're dealing with."  
Elena stiffens on the bed as he stalks forward, but she doesn't speak yet. Damon frowns and drops the required items on the bed beside her. "Hope you had a balanced breakfast today," he tells her casually, unwrapping a needle from its sterile packaging, and readying a bag for collection. "Klaus wants a double donation this time."  
"Why are you doing this?" She whispers at last.  
He glances at her, pausing in his task for a short moment. "Boredom."  
She pales slightly. "He didn't compel you?"  
"To collect your blood? No." He smirks. "He hasn't needed to compel me."  
"But you- you flipped your humanity switch."  
He hums in agreement, setting down the readied bag and motioning for her to give him her arm. "He did compel me for that, if that makes you feel any better." The needle slides into her skin easily, and though he doesn't feel the love he has for her now, his touch is gentle and precise. She relaxes slightly, and the blood begins to fill the bag.

"Damon," she whispers. "I love you."

His eyes lock onto hers, but he doesn't speak immediately. Because his emotions aren't clouding his judgements, he can rationally understand that even if her statement is truthful, it's a ploy. "That's a rather clichéd tactic, don't you think?" he asks her eventually.

Tears swell in her brown eyes, "This isn't you."

"It is, Elena. That's what you don't understand. This is who am I when I don't love you."

She flinches. "You don't mean it," she argues, albeit weakly.

"It doesn't matter what you think," he replies conversationally. "I don't care about anything anymore. You know how this works, Elena. Nothing you say to me can change that."

She's gazing off somewhere behind him. "I know," she breathes. "But I had to try it this way first."

He tilts his head at her, eyeing her not unlike a predator considers its prey. Its prey that has fallen right into its lap. _Too easy_. "You knew I was coming?"  
She looks genuinely afraid after he says these words. "Yes," She breathes, glancing now at the mostly-full bag of her blood between them.  
His eyes follow her train of sight, understanding forming in his brilliant mind. Something will happen when this bag is full, he decides. He quickly closes off the bag, disconnecting it from the tube and needle and laying them on the bed. His fingers linger on the plastic of the second, and empty, bag. "Why didn't you run? Why did you bother to lock the door when you _know_ -"  
The soft click of a gun is his only warning before his back is ignited in fiery pain. He hisses and reaches behind him to pull out the vervain dart. "You idiot," he snaps in the direction of the closet. "One dart isn't gonna cut it, Stefan. That's a perk of over-indulging in human blood. Or don't you remember?" Two more darts are fired at him, only one finds purchase. Beyond irritated by now, he turns away from Elena and the blood bag to rip the closet door from its hinges. -"Poor Ric."- before yanking his brother from its confines. He snaps several bones in his brother's hand as he forcibly takes away the gun loaded with more vervain and tosses it aside. "You're gonna have to do a little better than that, brother."  
"Like this?" He gasps out just before Damon feels a stake embed itself into his back. He growls and jerks to the left at the same time he hears multiple footsteps on the landing.  
"Clever," Damon concedes, as Ric, Jeremy, and Bonnie hurry into the room to join this fight. Caroline remains behind him, still holding the handle of the stake. "That conversation," Damon gasps out, around the stake lodged in his chest, "On the porch…"  
"Was staged," Jeremy replies with a nod. "We knew you'd be listening."  
Damon nods, carefully pretending to be defeated, effectively caught between his brother and Caroline. "Don't give you enough credit, do I, baby Gilbert?"

Jeremy smiles wistfully. "You're still in there, Damon, I know you are. Don't let Klaus ruin anything good there was in you."

Damon sighs, "I'm touched, truly, but there's more to it than that."

Stefan gets to his feet, plunging two more vervain syringes into his brother's chest. "Something to do with Katherine?"

Damon's concern ramps up a notch as he begins to feel unconsciousness pushing at the backs of his eyes. One more good shot of vervain, and he's lost. He needs to play this smart. He allows his eyelids to droop, his breathing to slow and labor. "Yes," he says breathlessly, deciding the truth might actually work in his favor. "Klaus said he… would go after Katherine instead… if I helped him," Well, a half truth, perhaps.

"What?" Elena is at his side in an instant, waiting on baited breath.

 _This is just too easy_. "I… I have to go… back." His eyes fall closed. "It's the only way… to save Elena." _Hook, line, and sinker._

Stefan shakes Damon's shoulders. "Stay awake, Damon. _Shit."_

"Just… let me go."

Stefan swallows thickly, the eery echo from the day before twisting the knife of guilt deeper in his heart. That is, until- "You son of a bitch-"

" _Stefan-!_ " Elena protests, confused.

"You're a liar! This is all an act, isn't it?" Stefan growls. "I know you better than you think I do, Damon."

Figuring the jig is up anyway, Damon chooses that moment to throw Caroline off of him. "Not nearly enough credit," he concedes for the second time that evening. He isn't ready to just hand himself over, though. He knows for an absolute fact that between his brother and Elena, they'll have his humanity back on before the end of the week. And he just isn't ready for that. "Not a lie though. That's my prize for returning Elena's blood to Klaus," he dodges Stefan's fist and lands a blow of his own. "That's why he needs extra blood this time. We're leaving in the morning-" They crash into the wall, Stefan momentarily gaining the upper hand on a vervain-weakened Damon. "-to "hire" a few more werewolf recruits and to find Katherine." Damon's panting, trying fiercely to maintain the upper hand. He lands a few more decent blows, before suddenly, his brain is on fire. He cries out, gripping either side of his head as his knees give way. "Damn witch," he hisses through his blinding pain.

Stefan grabs each of Damon's shoulders. "Was any of it true, Damon?" he demands.

"Yes," Damon gasps, unable to meet Stefan's eyes as the blood vessels continue to rupture. "Why-" he cries out again, "Why would I help him-" a gasp. "For no good reason?" He slouches against his brother's hold on him. He can feel the sorrow, regret, and rage bubbling to the surface. "She ruined us, Stefan. If there's even a chance-" he's struggling to stay with it, to keep the emotions forced behind the switch, "To make her pay… I need this."

Stefan gazes at his brother for a long moment, thoughtful. "Turn it back on," he whispers. "Turn your humanity on, and we'll let you go and do this."

Damon moans, his fingertips drawing blood from the pressure he's using to grip his head. "I can't!" Bonnie is laying it on thick now, which Damon thinks is rather cruel at this point. "He compelled me, remember?"

"He compelled you to turn it off, not to never turn it back on," Stefan argues gently. "I know you're on the edge. Just let it back in. Think of how much you love Elena. You can do this for Elena."

"Stop, Stefan," he groans. "Don't do this." He shouts, "That's enough, witch!"

"Just turn it on, Damon!"

" _I can't!"_ He thinks Bonnie has let up slightly on her assault on his mind, but it still pains him. "It's better this way," he breathes, allowing himself to go slack. He has to focus every single ounce of his remaining strength and concentration on keeping the switch flipped. If he isn't incredibly careful now, it'll all be over.

"Brother," Stefan murmurs. "What are you afraid of?"

The others are watching this exchange intently, each silent and motionless. Even Elena understands the importance of this moment between the brothers. She knows Damon loves her, more than she's certain she deserves, but she also knows that Damon was the one who brought Stefan back from the edge. It's Stefan's turn to find his brother and pull him back to them.

Damon shakes his head, but it doesn't deter Stefan. "This isn't you." Stefan glances up at Bonnie, nods, giving her the signal to let up completely, as his brother has gone limp in his hands. "Just tell me why you think it's better this way."

Stefan should've known. He would regret this moment for some time after; it would end up filling many pages of his journal with regret and frustration. Damon sighs in relief as Bonnie's torture ends, and that is the only warning Stefan receives. One moment, Damon is inches from unconsciousness, slack in his grip, and the next instant, his brother flits away and out of Ric's apartment in a blur, slipping the bag of Elena's blood in one hand, before anyone has a mind to stop him. He does answer Stefan's question, though, and Damon's murmur hangs heavily in the air between them long after he's gone.

" _You deserve each other, Stefan, but I can't survive without her."_ Elena swallows with no small amount of difficulty.

...

Damon returns to Klaus almost empty-handed, but the switch remains intact, so while he logically understands the Original will be angry, he can't really bring himself to muster up the proper amount of fear. Or really, any at all. After he's made it halfway back to Klaus's mansion, he slows to a human pace, the vervain having severely drained him. He's left his car, but it doesn't matter much now anyway. He stumbles the last few miles, resolutely not thinking about any of the things that have occurred today.

The black top he stumbles upon is empty for anyone except him for a long time, but he finally gets lucky. His luck comes in the form of a middle-aged man out for a jog. Damon doesn't even bother to compel him before he drains him. Life trickles back into his exhausted limbs as the man slips from his grasp to the pavement. The vampire quickly disposes of the evidence, and shortly thereafter, he finds himself entering Klaus's manor.

The Original Hybrid has been waiting for him, apparently, because before he can make it much farther than ten steps into the house, Klaus appears. "You failed, hmm?"

Damon frowns, too tired to gather up the necessary patience for this. "Mostly."

"Then you shouldn't have returned."

Damon pulls the lone blood bag from his jacket pocket. "I figured this would do," he says, tossing it lightly to Klaus.

The Original catches it deftly, his expression still bored and slightly irritated. Though, Damon has come to recognize this look as his usual one. "This isn't all I asked for."

"Well, you'll excuse me if I don't care much about that right now, as I didn't ask to have my ass vervained or my brain fried. And I'll be damned if I'm walking into that trap again. Make it work, or go get it your damned self."

"I dislike the way you address your betters."

"How would you know how I address them?"

"Funny," he deadpans, sarcasm thick and heavy.

"Do you know where Katherine is, or not?"

"I do," Klaus replies. "But you didn't deliver on your end of the bargain. I specifically asked for a double donation. Why should I still allow your involvement in this?"

"Because we're kindred spirits, and you have a thing for poetic justice."

Klaus lifts his chin slightly, his eyebrows lifting minutely. This is the expression Damon has learned means he's finally used his mouth for something other than getting himself into trouble. It means he may well have just won this little exchange of words. Klaus nods, shrugs, nods once more. "Very well. You've one hour to be ready. I don't wait."

Damon smirks, and stalks off to find lunch, wash away the blood, and pack a few extra shirts. In that order.

…

The first sound to break the heavy silence is the closet door falling sideways to the floor, the last screw of the bottom hinge finally giving way. Elena flinches at the sound, finally looking away from the front door of Ric's apartment, which stands open and motionless. Ric himself is leaning heavily against one wall, gazing vacantly at the Damon-shaped dent opposite him.

Bonnie is the first one to speak. Her voice is quiet, but even still it rakes against the silence. "I think it's safe to say we've done all we can for him, Stefan. Damon is gone, and he doesn't want to be saved." She turns to leave, Jeremy following slowly and hesitantly behind her. The Gilbert teen glances back at his sister and then Stefan, uncertain of what will happen next. When no one says anything in the wake of Bonnie's words, Jeremy ducks his head and follows silently through the open door after her.

Caroline is the next to come to back to life. She shifts awkwardly, seeming unsure of what to say. Finally, she shifts her weight between both feet, murmurs an apology, and moves toward the front door. She tries to pull it gently closed behind her, but the broken lock doesn't catch anymore. The door slowly falls open again as the clicks of her heels on the stairway fade.

Alaric sighs, totaling up in his head the damage he'll have to work on repairing. He should be angry, but he isn't. He only feels tired and drained and empty. It isn't clear whose fault it was that caused the first domino to fall; who's to blame for where they are now. He isn't sure the young witch is right, because he doesn't believe in giving up on the ones he cares about. And the Damon he knows, the Damon who has somehow become his best friend, wouldn't want to be in the position he is now. However, the holes in his walls, in his life, in his psyche, have left him feeling hopeless and weary.

"I'll pay for the damage," Stefan murmurs at last.

This pulls Ric's attention away from his upset. He nods at the younger Salvatore brother, before saying, "Thanks. I think I'll just help myself to a bottle of Damon's good bourbon and a blank check, if you don't mind."

Stefan is caught off guard by this reply, and a grin rises to his lips before he can think twice about it. "Right, sure," he agrees. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

Elena watches them fondly for a while, before the moment fades, and she asks, "What now?"

The vampire in the room glances toward her, his smile dropping off completely. "I don't know, Elena," he tells her. He shakes his head. "That was the best plan I had. After he came to the house earlier today, I knew we could trap him here, but I thought between all of us, we could've held him. Damon without his humanity…" he looks away, his eyes clouding slightly in thought. "He's ruthless. He will never fall for a trap of mine again."

Elena sniffs, glances away before she gives into the tears that threaten to fall. "This isn't him. We have to do something- something else."

"I know, Elena." Stefan climbs stiffly to his feet. "I know." He sighs. "I think you should go home. Get some rest. Ric and I will start working on a new plan to get Damon, alright?" He rests his hand against her cheek for a short moment before he turns away. "He'll be alright, Elena. He always is."

...

Road trip bonding with a broody Original isn't humanity-less Damon's idea of a good time, but Klaus lets him feed on and fuck whomever he likes along the way, and so the younger vampire is forced to concede that it really _could_ be worse.  
It takes a few days to find Katherine's exact and current location, but they manage to run into two different Werewolf packs in that time. Damon tries to let Klaus deal with that; he much prefers his distractions in the form of booze and women. When they do locate the older doppelgänger, Damon is unsurprised to find her in a bar, flirting relentlessly with the poor sucker tending bar. "Well, if it isn't the Queen Petrova Bitch herself. Oh wait, going by Pierce these days?" He sweeps onto the bar stool beside her. "Who _can_ keep track?"  
"My least favorite Salvatore," She returns. "You're looking... bored. Finally decided to flip the switch and ditch my less exciting and attractive twin?"  
"Doppelgänger," Damon corrects off-handedly, "And yes; obviously. Why else would I be sitting in a casino bar outside of Albuquerque?" The insults fired at Elena don't bother him nearly as much without emotions, and the lies fall easily and naturally from his tongue.  
Katherine's laugh is as tinkling and false as ever. "Buy me a drink."  
He shrugs and motions to the bar keep. "Two bourbons," he compels the man, "Neat." He turns back to Katherine. "So, what brings you to," he glances at the brochure sitting unopened to her left," the Land of Enchantment? _Really_?" He rolls his eyes, "Sounds picturesque, Katherine."  
"It's the last place anyone would be looking," She replies stiffly. "Besides, the food is good and the liquor is cheap."  
"My kind of place," Damon mutters.  
"But that brings us to the heart of things doesn't it," Katherine tells him in a voice that is somehow entirely too much like Elena's and simultaneously completely unlike Elena. "How did you find me?" She hisses as she slips off her stool.  
"Finally got lucky after, oh, I don't know, _a hundred and fifty years_ or so."  
"Cute," Katherine replies, worming her way between his legs and allowing her hands to rest on either of his thighs, her thumbs moving slowly more inward. "Are you here to play?" She murmurs in his ear.  
"Depends on the game."  
She chuckles. "I won't hold back on you anymore."  
Despite his loathing of this woman, his cock twitches at this. The idea of Katherine writhing underneath his fully capable hands one last time... He doesn't love her, and he's willing to bet he never truly did, but he remembers what their sex life was like once. What it could be like now, with no pesky emotions to get in the way of things. "I don't play nice these days, Kitty-Kat."  
She smirks and glances down at his offending appendage before leaning into him. Her teeth scrape against the sensitive skin at the base of his neck.  
"Hey now," he reprimands her half-heartedly, "At least buy me dinner first."  
Her lips tilt in a smirk just before her teeth sink into his flesh. He stiffens and allows her one single swallow before shoving her off of him. "Pleasure, I'm sure," he snaps. "But I won't let you use me that way anymore. If you're hungry, find someone else to snack on."  
"I knew you weren't ready to play with the big boys, Damon. You're just not any fun anymore."  
"Pity," he says, roughly scrubbing at the blood on his neck with the back of his hand. "We could've had some fun, for old time's sake." A bit louder, he adds, "She's all yours, Klaus."  
Katherine pales considerably, and Damon takes special care to enjoy this moment. Of all the decades she spent a dozen steps ahead of him, he fully appreciates finally beating the great Katherine Pierce at her own game. Klaus is upon them in a moment, snapping Katherine's neck like a twig before any arguments can be made.  
It is just then that the bartender returns with the drinks Damon had ordered. He sets them down and quickly turns away. _Smart_ _kid_ , Damon thinks.  
"Took you long enough," Klaus gripes.  
"Just having a little fun before you murder her, that's all."  
"Let's go, then, shall we?"  
They finish their bourbons in one swallow each and return to the parking lot where Klaus's car waits, Katherine hanging loosely in the Original's grip.  
Klaus affixes something glittering to Katherine's neck before climbing into the driver's seat. Damon sits shotgun and lounges casually in his seat. "All set, then?" He asks the other. Klaus nods. "What's keeping princess out? Aren't you worried she'll wake up and give you the slip again?"  
Klaus shakes his head. "No, Damon; as you may recall, I keep several witches under my constant employ. That pendant I've put on her, as long as it's touching her skin, won't allow her to regain consciousness." He turns the key in the ignition before looking into Damon's eyes and compelling, "You will, under no circumstances, remove it."  
Damon frowns, pouts, saying, "Unnecessary," overemphasizing the first syllables. "I want that bitch to get hers as much as the next guy."  
"True as I'm certain that is, Damon, I'm through taking any more risks where you're concerned."  
Damon inclines his head slightly, before turning it to stare out the window. "Probably not the worst idea, frankly," he agrees lightly.

They roll back into Mystic Falls under the cover of darkness. Elena's stolen blood has been used up entirely, and Damon is endlessly tired of werewolves. Though he was only bitten twice the entire time they've been gone, and Klaus healed him before any damage could be done, his skin still itches and aches with phantom injury. He feels jumpy and uneasy as they pull around the back of Klaus's mansion. Two hybrids pull an unconscious Katherine from the back of the car as Klaus and Damon step out as well. The Original murmurs something to the hybrid closest to them before turning back to the Salvatore. "Care for a drink, mate?"

Damon shrugs and follows him inside.

As the hours pass and the bourbon drains, Klaus dodges every single question Damon asks about Katherine, and Damon makes sure to keep the conversion light and on topics he has no emotional attachment to.

A vampire without emotions is cunning and ruthless and deals carefully with what is considered a threat to their continued lack of humanity. Damon is no exception, and he's realized that staying in this one horse town is a massive threat to his humanity switch. It's time to put as much distance between himself and everyone he knows immediately. He handed Katherine over to Klaus and got what revenge he could. There's no reason for him to remain. However, his concern is Klaus won't tolerate what he will surely see as desertion. He will have to be careful and slip away only after the time is right. For now, he clicks his full tumbler against Klaus's own once again.  
...

Damon doesn't have enough belongings here to even fill the small bag, but he packs everything he's brought. He's absolutely silent in making his way to the exit, he's sure, which is why he nearly leaps out of his skin when Klaus steps out from the shadows separating him and the door.

"Going somewhere?"

Damon shrugs, as though this is all absolutely unconcerning. "I hear Italy is lovely this time of year."

"Leaving without so much as a 'goodbye'? Damon, mate, I'm wounded."

Damon smiles self-deprecatingly. "We both know you wouldn't have let me go," he replies softly.

Klaus nods, returns his smile. "Too true."

The Original is before him in less than an instant, gripping his throat tightly in one hand and his shoulder to prevent his movement with the other. "But what to do with you now?" he breathes, leaning in close. "I'm afraid you leave me no choice, mate." He removes his hand from Damon's throat but squeezes his grip on his shoulder, indicating that Damon shouldn't try to run. Klaus's hand then slips into his pants pocket, coming away with some small thing that catches gently on the faint light.  
Without any further preamble, Klaus shoves a syringe into Damon's chest cavity. The heart is rather difficult to reach at this angle, but not impossible for him. He lowers the plunger gently, forcing the clear liquid into Damon's heart at a slow and steady rate. Damon is gripping the Original's wrist now, though he has no possible hope of stopping him. The syringe is nearly empty anyway. "What is- what are you-?" He gasps out.  
"I apologize, mate. You have actually been remarkably helpful these past few weeks. I may even go so far as to say we've bonded somewhat." He sighs regretfully. "However, I needed a guinea pig vampire who was more than a century old. You're convenient. I need to be absolutely certain there are no adverse side effects that might render her useless to me. You see, this is why I wanted Katerina so much after all this time. I've been searching for this serum for centuries."  
Damon's going more numb which each pound of his heart, and he isn't sure if that's a bad thing or not. "And what, pray-tell, is this serum for, exactly?"  
Klaus smiles wolfishly. "Curing vampirism, of course."  
Damon's knees buckle.

The loud, mind numbing music blaring into Elena's ears through the set of earbuds connected to her phone is interrupted briefly by the tiny chime of a text message. Holding her breath, she reads the words from an unknown number.

 _I'd like the chance to prove I'm not the monster you think I am._

Swallowing thickly while wondering who of her two suspects has sent this to her, she replies, ' _I am running out of second chances. Who is this?'_

It only takes a short moment for a response. _Meet me at the Mystic Grill in two hours. I promise everything will be discussed to your satisfaction, sweet Elena._

 _Klaus_ , she's realizes immediately.

She hesitates nearly an hour before typing back, ' _If I agree, will you return Damon to me?'_

His reply, unlike her own had been, is immediate and not what she had been expecting. _Done._

...

Klaus smirks and lowers his phone, tucking it back into his pocket before appraising Damon with careful scrutiny. The once vampire doesn't outwardly appear any different. He can see himself in the long mirror running along one wall of the foyer. He _feels_ strange, however. Tired, mostly; even though he has slept nearly an entire day. But his chest heaves as it still tries to settle on a regular rhythm of constant breathing; his heart pounds in the same way, beating out a frantic and unsteady pace. His vision is as though someone has dulled the lights and drained the color; he likens it to the picture of an old television. His muscles feel tight and fatigued, and his balance and coordination is stilted and troubled.

Damon isn't truly concerned by Klaus's intent interest in him until that glint enters the Original's eye. Klaus is just a blur to Damon's human eyes. He couldn't stop him as a vampire so there's absolutely no hope for him as a human. So, he quickly finds Klaus fang deep in his neck before he has a chance to blink. It's over quickly; Klaus steps back after just a taste. "Remarkable," he murmurs, though he's more speaking to himself than he is to Damon. "I can hear your heartbeat, and your blood is certainly human."

Damon frowns, wiping away the drips of blood trickling slowly toward his shirt. "Now that _that_ 's over with…" he doesn't know how to finish that sentence. In fact, he can hardly process this at all. He's human. _Human._ He swallows with some difficulty.

"Yes, quite right," Klaus says, biting down into his wrist and bringing it to Damon's lips. "Allow me to take care of that for you."

Damon accepts silently, figuring it's the _least_ Klaus could do for him at this point. He swallows several mouthfuls, what he's sure is enough to heal him. Except… his neck still stings slightly, and Klaus's eyes have widened somewhat. _Not good._

"Interesting."

"I somehow doubt I'm going to agree," Damon says quietly.

"It would appear as though vampire blood no longer heals you." Klaus frowns, thinking. "I can't say whether this is because of the magic or because you, yourself, used to be one. I intend to find out. However, in the meantime," he begins to compel Damon, "You're going to go and find your brother now. You're not going to stop anywhere, bandage that wound, or clean up the blood until you've found him. We're going to find out just how good Stefan's control is these days. Good luck, mate."

Damon, powerless to disobey, leaves in the direction of the Boarding house.

...

It's cold. He can't remember ever being this cold before. Still, his compulsion stands. He wishes he would have retrieved his car at some point, though. It might only be a few miles from Klaus's mansion to the Boarding House, but he can no longer feel his fingertips or his feet. He's beginning to stumble more and more with every step. The last mile drags on and on, until he's certain he must be standing still. Finally, though, he's fairly sure he can see the faint lights glittering through the windows of his and Stefan's home. He sighs in relief, sags slightly against the weight of his newfound humanity. "Stef," he murmurs. The night is silent around him, so he stumbles on.

When his feet leave pavement and land roughly against gravel, his cold-numbed legs give way beneath him. The rocks bite into his knees and palms, and he pants wearily, gazing hatefully at the offending ground below him. "Shit," he sighs. Klaus's compulsion is pulling at his muscles, despite the tiredness he feels.

"Damon?" someone calls to him.

He doesn't look up. "Stefan?" he asks in reply.

"No," the man says, gravel crunching as he approaches. "It's Ric. You know, your friend." He's only feet from Damon now, but still the other doesn't rise to his feet. "Damon?" he repeats quietly. "Damon, get up."

He nods and chuckles, humorless and frustrated, his teeth chattering. "Stefan," he mutters again.

Ric frowns in his friend's direction. "No, Damon. Stefan's not out here. What's going on?"

"I have to-" Damon has successfully clamored to his feet again. He pushes past Alaric, looking straight through him. "Find my brother."

Ric spins around, his eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. _What the hell?_ "Damon, stop! Tell me what's going on!" The history teacher's confusion is evident in his tone. He saw Damon just days ago, emotionless and dangerous, and now-

"I- I can't stop. I have to find Stefan."

Chills slice down his spine, "Are you bleeding?" He asks. But Damon doesn't reply. The vampire is headed toward the house; he doesn't seem to hear Ric at all. "Damon!" he calls, jerking into a forward motion, following his friend toward the front door of where he has just come from. He considers pulling out his phone to alert Stefan, but the lights loom just before them. Ric figures he'll find out soon enough. Just before they reach the threshold of the closed door, Ric finally manages to get ahead of Damon. He presses both hands into the other's shoulders. "Just- hold on a minute. What's going on? And why are you bleeding?"

"Stefan. I have to find Stefan." Damon's eyes are hazy and unfocused, his pupils widely dilated in the dim light thrown across them from the windows. "I can't stop. I have to find my brother." Damon pushes past Alaric once again, his hand automatically coming forward to turn the door handle.

"Have you been… compelled?" Ric asks, following Damon back into the house.

Damon reaches the den, before he falls sideways slightly, comes to lean heavily against one wall. His shoulders heave as they rise and fall. He looks… strange. _Something's wrong._

Stefan is in the library, where Ric left him just minutes ago. His head lifts when he hears the front door open and shut, two pairs of footsteps moving into the den. Curiosity pulls at him as he walks toward his unknown guests. Perhaps Alaric forgot something? But who else is here? "Ric," he calls. "Is that you?"

Though Ric doesn't respond to his question, he can hear the teacher's hushed voice speaking to someone. Whomever is with him, however, doesn't reply. As he comes around the last corner, he hears Ric ask, "So why are you _bleeding_?"

"Ric?" Stefan asks, stopping just inside the room.

"Stefan, stop! I wouldn't-"

"Damon!" Stefan exclaims, blurring to where his brother sags against the wall.

Ric tries to stop him before it's too late. And though he doesn't understand what is going on with the elder Salvatore, he knows Stefan's problem with blood, and he figures there's probably a very real and very deadly reason why Damon has been compelled to find his brother. But Alaric is only human, and he isn't a match to Stefan's strength. He's forced aside the moment Damon turns to greet his brother.

"Hello, brother," he murmurs.

Stefan's eyes lock onto what his nose has already noticed. "Damon?" he asks weakly.

Damon nods. His body continues to tremble, much to his frustration. He's so _cold._ His hand moves toward his neck, an instinct to wipe away the blood that still flows down. It occurs to him suddenly, all at once, that he shouldn't be _anywhere near_ Stefan. He takes a step backward, but that's as far as he gets before his brother rears forward, not unlike a snake about to strike. "Stef, it's me. Klaus, he-"

The veins forking their way down from Stefan's eyes is all the warning Damon needs, but it isn't enough. His brother is much faster than he is now, and though Damon tries to dodge and Ric tries to intervene, Stefan lunges fangs-first into his neck. Damon gasps sharply as his brother rips wide the small punctures Klaus had opened.

"Stop, Stefan!" Alaric tugs at the vampire's shoulders, meeting Damon's wide eyes with dread. "You're going to kill him!"

Damon's back is forced against the opposite wall. Then, Stefan's fingers twine through Damon's dark hair before yanking his head roughly to the side. Damon cries out now, in protest and in pain. "Stef-!" Stefan's pulls of his blood are causing a strange feeling to pool in his stomach, and he feels as though he can't breathe. "Stef-Stefan… _stop_."

 _This._ He's missed this feeling more than anything in that moment. Hot and thick and rich, the blood flowing through him, invigorating parts him he'd forgotten were neglected. The blood haze is all consuming, and the taste of it matches the scent of the one it's being relieved from; rich and spicy and… _familiar._ He's never been one to drink slowly, to savor the flavors with gentle, shallow swallows; instead, he gulps greedily at the hot liquid, each mouthful endlessly pleasing the demon within him. However, something is beginning to nag at the back of his mind. Something- someone- he should recognize. The details are hazy behind the blood, but slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to notice what he'd been blissfully ignoring. Someone is shouting, and his prey has gone entirely limp in his rough grasp but still manages to whisper something that finally- _finally-_ snaps him out of his mindless, glorious feeding.

"Stef- Stefan... you- you're... hurting me-" his prey chokes out. Then, after a few more deep swallows, the slurred words, "'S okay," are breathed out on the quiet exhalation close to his ear.

The quiet sigh has a ringing finality to it that echoes painfully in his ears. He tears his fangs free, gazing in horror at the one he'd fed so deeply from. _Fuck._ "D-Damon?"

The whites of his brother's eyes are all the answer him as the blue irises slide and roll upwards toward the back of his head.

Alaric's hands tremble where they're tightly gripped on the shoulders of Stefan's shirt, hopelessly wrinkling the fabric underneath his death grip. He can't force any sound through his fear-clogged throat. He watches as his best friend's face slackens and his eyes roll up and backwards. He's never seen Damon as a human before, of course, and the sudden reality is as eerily fascinating as it is horribly jarring.

Stefan has come back to himself, the blissful pleasure of the good feed is effectively doused by his brother, entirely limp, in his arms; Stefan's embrace the only thing keeping the former vampire from slumping to the floor. "I'm sorry, brother. So, _so,_ sorry," he gasps, sorrow and confusion and hopelessness swirling around the three heavily. 


End file.
